fly the Rutules in rout, flies keen Atinas; leaders
in disarray and troops in devastation make for shelter,
turn round, and gallop to the walls. None can sustain 25
in combat the Teucrians’ deadly onset or resist the stream;
they throw their unstrung bows on their unnerved
shoulders, and the hoof of four-foot steeds shakes the
crumbling plain. On rolls to the ramparts a cloud of dust,
thick and murky; and the matrons from their sentry-posts, 30
smiting on their breasts, raise a shriek as women
wont to the stars of heaven. Who first pour at speed