618At once the ranks are thrown into confusion, and the Latins, turning, sling their shields behind them and wheel their horses towards the walls. 620The Trojans drive them on; Asilas, foremost, leads in the squadrons. 621And now they were nearing the gates, and once more the Latins raise a shout and turn back their horses' supple necks: these flee and are carried far back with reins let loose. 624As when the sea, surging on with alternating flood, now rushes towards the land and, foaming, flings its wave over the rocks and drenches the furthest sand with its curve, now swiftly flees backwards, sucking back the stones rolled up by the surge, and leaves the shore as the shallows ebb: twice the Tuscans drove the Rutulians, turned, to the walls; twice, thrown back, they look behind them, covering their backs with their shields.
631But when they met in a third clash and locked whole battle-lines together, and man picked out man, then indeed the groans of the dying, and arms and bodies in deep blood, and half-dead horses mingled with the slaughter of men roll over, and a fierce fight arises. 636Orsilochus, since he shrank from approaching Remulus himself, hurled his spear at his horse and left the iron beneath its ear. 638At the blow the charger rears in fury and, maddened by the wound, chest raised, flings its legs high: Remulus is thrown and rolls on the ground. 640Catillus brings down Iollas, and Herminius, huge in spirit, huge in body and arms, whose head was bare with its tawny hair, and his shoulders bare, nor do wounds frighten him: so wide he lies open to arms.
644Driven through his broad shoulders the spear quivers, and transfixing the man doubles him up with pain. 646Everywhere black blood pours out; 646contending, they deal death with the sword and seek a glorious death through wounds.