With foot and spear upon him, "See," he cries, "Their champion; see the great Orodes slain!" All shout applause, but, dying, he replies, "Strange foe, not long thy triumph shall remain; Like fate awaits thee, on the self-same plain." "Die!" said Mezentius, with a smile of spite, "Jove cares for me," and plucked the shaft again.
Grim rest and iron slumber seal his sight; The drooping eyelids close on everlasting night.
CI.

Now Caedicus made great Alcathous fall, Sacrator killed Hydaspes; Rapo too Parthenius and Orses, strong and tall; Messapus Clonius, whom his steed o'erthrew, And, foot to foot, Lycaon's son he slew, Brave Ericetes.

Valerus with a blow Felled Agis, Lycia' s warrior.

Salius flew At Thronius, but Nealces lays him low, Skilled with the flying dart and far-deceiving bow.
CII.

Stern Mars, impartial, weighs in equal scale The mutual slaughter, and the ghastly fight Raves, as in turn they perish or prevail, Vanquished or victor, for none dreams of flight.
From Heaven the gods look pitying on the sight, Such fruitless hate, such scenes of mortal woe.
Here Venus, there great Juno, filled with spite, Sits watching.