He spake, and through the breathing air shot down, And sought Ascanius, now a god no more, But shaped like aged Butes, whilom known The servant of the Dardan king, who bore Anchises' shield, and waited at his door, Then left to guard Ascanius.

Such in view Apollo seemed; such clanging arms he wore; Such were his hoary tresses, voice, and hue, And these his words, as near the fiery youth he drew: LXXXV "Enough, to live, and see Numanus bleed, Child of AEneas! This, thy valour's due, Great Phoebus grants, nor stints a rival's meed.
Now cease."-- He spake, and vanished from their view.
His arms divine the Dardan chieftains knew, And heard the quiver rattle in his flight.
So, warned by Phoebus' presence, back they drew The fiery youth, then plunged into the fight.
Death seems a welcome risk, and danger a delight.
LXXXVI.

Shouts fill the walls and outworks; casque and shield Clash; bows are bent, and javelins hurled amain: Fierce grows the fight, and weapons strew the field.
So fierce what time the Kid-star brings the rain, The storm, from westward rising, beats the plain: So thick with hail, the clouds, asunder riven, Pour down a deluge on the darkened main, When Jove, upon his dreaded south-wind driven Stirs up the watery storm, and rends the clouds of heaven.
LXXXVII.

Pandarus and Bitias, whom in Ida's grove The nymph Iaera to Alcanor bare, Tall as their mountains or the pines of Jove, Fling back the gate committed to their care, And bid the foemen enter, if they dare.
With waving plumes, and armed from top to toe, In front, beside the gateway, stand the pair, Tall as twin oaks, with nodding crests, that grow Where Athesis' sweet stream or Padus' waters flow.
LXXXVIII.

Up rush the foemen to the open gate, Quercens, Aquicolus, in armour bright, Brave Haemon, Tmarus, eager and elate, In troops they come, in troops they turn in flight, Or fall upon the threshold, slain outright.
Now fiercer swells the discord, louder grows The noise of strife, as, hastening to unite, The sons of Troy their banded ranks oppose, And battle hand to hand and, sallying, charge the foes.
LXXXIX.