Aeneas instat contra telumque coruscat ingens arboreum, et saevo sic pectore fatur: quae nunc deinde mora est? aut quid iam, Turne, retractas? non cursu, saevis certandum est comminus armis.
Aeneas presses on against the foe, brandishing his great tree-like spear, and thus he cries in wrathful spirit: What more delay is there now? Why, Turnus, do you still draw back? Not in a race, but hand to hand with savage weapons, must we contend.