873And here he called on Aeneas three times with a loud voice. 874Aeneas indeed recognised him, and prays joyfully: 'So may the father of the gods bring it about, so may high Apollo: may you begin to join battle!' 877He said only this, and advances to meet him with hostile spear. 878But he: 'Why try to frighten me, cruellest one, now that my son is taken? 879This was the only way by which you could destroy me. 880We neither shudder at death nor spare any of the gods. 881Stop: for I come to die, and bring you these gifts first.' 882He spoke and hurled a weapon at his enemy; 883then he plants another and another, flying round in a huge circle, but the golden boss withstands them.
885Three times he rode round him as he stood, in leftward circles, hurling weapons by hand; three times the Trojan hero carries round with him the huge forest on his bronze-clad shield. 888Then, when he is weary of so many delays, of pulling out so many darts, and is hard pressed in an unequal fight, pondering much in his mind, at last he bursts out and hurls his spear between the hollow temples of the warrior horse. 892The horse rears up erect and beats the air with its hooves, and, following the thrown rider down, entangles him, and collapses headlong on him with its shoulder dislocated. 895Trojans and Latins set the sky on fire with their shouting.
896Aeneas flies up and snatches his sword from its sheath and says over him: 'Where now is fierce Mezentius, and that savage force of his spirit?' 898In answer the Tyrrhenian, when, looking up at the air, he had drunk in the sky and recovered his mind: 'Bitter enemy, why do you taunt me and threaten death? 901There is no sin in slaughter, nor did I come to battle on such terms, nor did my Lausus make such a pact with you for me. 903One thing I beg, by any pardon there is for conquered enemies: allow my body to be covered with earth. 904I know the bitter hatred of my people surrounds me: defend me, I beg, from this fury, and grant me to be my son's companion in the tomb.' 907So he speaks, and receives the sword in his throat knowingly, and pours out his life over the fields in a stream of blood.