Up Clausus came, of Cures, in the pride Of youth.

His stark spear, urged with forceful sway, Through Dryops' throat, beneath the chin, he plied, And voice and life forsook him, as he lay, Spewing thick gore, his forehead in the clay.
Three Thracians next, three sons of Idas bleed.
Ismarians these.

Halaesus to the fray Brings his Auruncan bands, and Neptune's seed, Messapus, too, comes up, the tamer of the steed.
XLVIII.

Each side strives hard the other's ground to win.
E'en on Ausonia's threshold raves the fray.
As in the broad air warring winds begin The battle, matched in strength and rage, nor they, The winds themselves, nor clouds nor sea give way, All locked in strife, and struggling as they can, And long in doubtful balance hangs the day, So meet the ranks, and mingle in the van, And foot clings close to foot, and man is massed with man.
XLIX.

Where, in another quarter, stones and trees, Torn from its banks, a torrent at its height Had strewn with wide-wrought ravage, Pallas sees His brave Arcadians break the ranks of fight, And turn before their Latin foes in flight.
Strange to foot-combat, from his trusty horse The rough ground lured each rider to alight.
Now with entreaties--'tis his last resource-- And now with bitter words he fires their flagging force.
L.