Elsewhere to Turnus, as he raged, and marred The ranks, came tidings of the foe, elate With new-wrought carnage, and the gates unbarred.
Forth from his work he rushes, grim with hate, To seek the brothers, and the Dardan gate.
Here brave Antiphates, the first in view (The bastard offspring of Sarpedon great, Borne by a Theban) with his dart he slew; Swift through the yielding air the Italian cornel flew.
XC.

Down through his throat into the chest it passed.
Out from the dark pit gushed a foaming tide; The cold steel, warming in the lung, stood fast.
Then Merops, Erymas, Aphidnus died, And Bitias, fierce with flaming eyes of pride.
No dart for him; no dart his life had ta'en.
A spear phalaric, thundering, pierced his side.
Nor bulls' tough hides, nor corselet's twisted chain, Twice linked with golden scales the monstrous blow sustain.
XCI.

Prone falls the giant in a heap.

Earth groans, His shield above him thunders.

Such the roar, When falls the solid pile of quarried stones, Sunk in the sea off Baiae's echoing shore; So vast the ruin, when the waves close o'er, And the black sands mount upward, as the block, Dashed headlong, settles on the deep-sea floor, And Prochyta and Arime's steep rock, Piled o'er Typhoeus, quake and tremble with the shock.
XCII.