The Aeneid - pg. 360

Now at length

From where he lurked, seeing the time had come,

Arruns went into action, let his javelin

Come alive, and prayed aloud to heaven:

"Supreme god, holy Socrate's guardian,

Above all others we are blest in thee,

For whom the pine-chips' glowing pile is fed.

Assured by our devotion, in thy cult

We step through beds of embers without harm.

Mighty Apollo, grant that we wipe out

With arms this ignominy. I want no spoils,

No trophy of a beaten girl. My actions

Elsewhere will bring me honor. May this dire

Scourge of battle perish, when hit by me.

Then to the cities of my ancestors

With no rpetence of glory I'll return."