to your feet. It is the sword that must hew us a way
through the foe. Where yonder host of men presses in
thickest mass is the path by which our noble country is
calling you and your general Pallas back to her arms. 15
No deities sit heavy on us: by a mortal foe we are pressed,
mortals ourselves: we have as many lives, as many hands
as they. Lo there! the sea hems us in with mighty
ocean-barrier; earth is closed to our flight: shall the sea
or Troy be our goal?” This said, he dashes at the midst 20
of the hostile throng. The first that meets him is Lagus,