manet imperterritus ille hostem magnanimum opperiens, et mole sua stat; atque oculis spatium emensus quantum satis hastae: dextra mihi deus et telum, quod missile libro, nunc adsint! voveo praedonis corpore raptis indutum spoliis ipsum te, Lause, tropaeum Aeneae.
He stands his ground undaunted, awaiting his noble foe, and steadfast in his bulk; then, with eye measuring the distance that would suffice his spear, he says: May this right hand, my deity, and the hurtling weapon I poise, now aid me! I vow you, Lausus, your very self, clad in spoils stripped from the robbers corpse, as my trophy over Aeneas.