Aeneas rush’d amid the bands; Bare changed into his head, and bare have been his palms, In sign of truce: then hence he cries aloud: “What surprising rage, what new desire of blood, Inflames your regulate’d minds? O Trojans, stop From impious fingers, nor violate the peace! By human sanctions, and through legal guidelines divine, The phrases are all agreed; the battle is mine. Dismiss your fears, and let the fight turn up; This hand by myself shall proper the gods and also you: Our injur’d altars, and their damaged vow, To this avenging sword the faithless Turnus owe.”
