Yet quails not Turnus; still his hopes are high To seize the shore, and keep them from the land.
Now cheering, and now chiding, rings his cry "Lo, here--'tis here, the battle ye demand.
Up, crush them; war is in the warrior's hand.
Think of your fathers and their deeds of old, Your homes, your wives.

Forestall them on the strand, Now, while they totter, while the foot's faint hold Slips on the shelving beach.

Fair Fortune aids the bold." XXXIX.

So saying, he ponders inly, whom to choose To mind the siege, and whom the foe to meet.
By planks meanwhile AEneas lands his crews.
Some wait until the languid waves retreat, Then, leaping, to the shallows trust their feet; Some vault with oars.

Brave Tarchon marks, quick-eyed, A sheltered spot, where neither surf doth beat, Nor breakers roar, but smooth the waters glide, And up the sloping shore unbroken swells the tide.
XL.