As on Taburnus, or in Sila's shade Two bulls, with butting foreheads, mix in fray: Pale fly the hinds, mute stands the herd dismayed: The heifers low, unknowing who shall sway The grove, what lord and leader to obey; They, with horns locked, their mutual rage outpour, And thrust for thrust, and wound for wound repay, Fast from their necks and dewlaps streams the gore, And all the neighbouring wood rebellows to the roar; XCIV.

So, when both champions on the listed field, The Trojan and the Daunian, eye to eye, Met in the deadly conflict, shield to shield Clanged, and a loud crash shattered through the sky.
And now great Jove, the Sire of gods on high, Holds up the scales, and sets the long beam straight, And in the balance lays their fates, to try Each champion's fortune in the stern debate, Whom battle's toil shall doom, where sinks the deathful weight.
XCV.

Forth springs, in fancied safety, at his foe Fierce Turnus, rising to his utmost height, And planting all his body in the blow, Strikes.

A loud shout, of terror and delight Goes up from Troy and Latium at the sight.
When lo, the falchion, as the stroke he plies, Snaps short, and leaves him helpless.

Naught but flight Can aid him; swifter than the wind he flies, As in his hand disarmed an unknown hilt he spies.
XCVI.