P. Vergilius Maro, Aeneid
Theodore C. Williams, Ed.

The turn of Butes and Orsilochus
came next, who were the Trojans, hugest twain:
yet Butes with her javelin-point she clove
from rearward, 'twixt the hauberk and the helm,
just where the horseman's neck showed white, and where
from shoulder leftward slung the light-weight shield.
From swift Orsilochus she feigned to fly,
through a wide circle sweeping, craftily
taking the inside track, pursuing so
her own pursuer; then she raised herself
to her full height, and through the warrior's helm
drove to his very skull with doubling blows
of her strong battle-axe,—while he implored
her mercy with loud prayers: his cloven brain
spilt o'er his face. Next in her pathway came—
but shrank in startled fear—the warrior son
of Aunus, haunter of the Apennine,
not least of the Ligurians ere his doom
cut short a life of lies. He, knowing well
no flight could save him from the shock of arms
nor turn the royal maid's attack, began
with words of cunning and insidious guile:
“What glory is it if a girl be bold,
on sturdy steed depending? Fly me not!
But, venturing with me on this equal ground,
gird thee to fight on foot. Soon shalt thou see
which one of us by windy boast achieves
a false renown.” He spoke; but she, to pangs
of keenest fury stung, gave o'er her steed
in charge of a companion, and opposed
her foe at equal vantage, falchion drawn,
on foot, and, though her shield no blazon bore,
of fear incapable. But the warrior fled,
thinking his trick victorious, and rode off
full speed, with reins reversed,—his iron heel
goading his charger's flight. Camilla cried:
“Ligurian cheat! In vain thy boastful heart
puffs thee so large; in vain thou hast essayed
thy father's slippery ways; nor shall thy trick
bring thee to guileful Aunus safely home.”
Herewith on winged feet that virgin bold
flew past the war-horse, seized the streaming rein,
and, fronting him, took vengeance on her foe
in bloody strokes: with not less ease a hawk,
dark bird of omen, from his mountain crag
pursues on pinions strong a soaring dove
to distant cloud, and, clutching with hooked claws,
holds tight and rips,—while through celestial air
the torn, ensanguined plumage floats along.