language shall forever be merged into that of the Latin race.

"Let Latium prosper as she will,
Their thrones let Alban monarchs fill;
Let Rome be glorious on the earth,
The centre of Italian worth;
But fallen Troy be fallen still,
The nation and the name."

Toward the end of this momentous encounter, during which both heroes
indulged in sundry boastful speeches, a bird warns Turnus that his end
is near, and his sister Juturna basely deserts him. Driven to bay and
deprived of all other weapons, Turnus finally hurls a rock at Aeneas,
who, dodging this missile, deals him a deadly wound. Turnus now
pitifully begs for mercy, but the sight of Pallas' belt, which his foe
proudly wears, so angers Aeneas that, after wrathfully snatching it
from him, he deals his foe the deadly blow which ends this epic.

"What! in my friend's dear spoils arrayed
To me for mercy sue?
'Tis Pallas, Pallas guides the blade:
From your cursed blood his injured shade
Thus takes atonement due."
Thus as he spoke, his sword he drave
With fierce and fiery blow
Through the broad breast before him spread:
The stalwart limbs grow cold and dead:
One groan the indignant spirit gave,
Then sought the shades below.