633When she had uttered these words, she straightway launched herself from high heaven, driving a storm through the air, girt in a cloud, and made for the Ilian line and the Laurentine camp. 636Then the goddess, out of hollow cloud, fashions a thin shade without strength in the likeness of Aeneas, a monstrous marvel to behold, adorns it with Dardan weapons, imitates the shield and the plumes of the divine head, gives it empty words, gives it sound without mind, and copies his gait as he walks, like the shapes that rumour says flit about after death, or dreams that mock the slumbering senses. 643But the phantom exults gleefully before the front lines, provokes the man with weapons and challenges him with its voice.
645Turnus presses on it and hurls his whirring spear from a distance: it turns its back and wheels away. 647Then indeed, when Turnus believed Aeneas had turned away and was retreating, and in confusion drank in empty hope in his heart: 'Where are you fleeing, Aeneas? 649Do not desert the bridal chamber promised you; 650by this right hand you will be given the land you sought across the waves.' 651Shouting such things he pursues and brandishes his drawn blade, and does not see that the winds are carrying off his joy.