advolat Aeneas vaginaque eripit ensem et super haec: ubi nunc Mezentius acer et illa effera vis animi? contra Tyrrhenus, ut auras suspiciens hausit caelum mentemque recepit: hostis amare, quid increpitas mortemque minaris? nullum in caede nefas, nec sic ad proelia veni, nec tecum meus haec pepigit mihi foedera Lausus.
Aeneas rushes up, tears his sword from the scabbard, and standing over him cries: Where now is bold Mezentius, and that wild fierceness of soul? In answer the Tuscan said, as with eyes raised to the air he drank in the heaven and regained his senses: Bitter foe, why do you taunt me and threaten me with death? It is no sin to slay me; not on such terms did I come to battle, nor is such the pact my Lausus pledged between me and you.