Meantime, as sheep within the yard of some great cattle-master,
While the white milk is drain’d from them, stand round in number countless,
And, grievèd by their lambs’ complaint, respond with bleat incessant;
So then along their ample host arose the Troian hurly.
For neither common words spake théy, nor kindred accent utter’d;
But mingled was the tongue of men from divers places summon’d.
By Arès these were urgèd on, those by grey-ey’d Athenè,
By Fear, by Panic, and by Strife immeasurably eager,
The sister and companion[[41]] of hero-slaying Arès,
Who truly doth at first her crest but humble rear; thereafter,