waxen realm and stir themselves to wrath by vehement 10
buzzing: the murky smell winds from chamber to chamber:
a dull blind noise fills the cavern: vapours ascend
into the void of air.
Yet another stroke fell on Latium’s wearied sons,
shaking with its agony the city to her foundations. When 15
the queen from her palace saw the enemy draw near, the
walls assailed, flames flying roofward, the Rutulian army,
the soldiers of Turnus nowhere in sight, she deemed, poor
wretch, her warrior slain in the combat, and maddened