XLII. "And now, Deiphobus, thy halls of pride,
Bowed by the flames, come ruining through the air;
Next burn Ucalegon's, and far and wide
The broad [Sigean] reddens with the glare.
Then come the clamour and the trumpet's blare.
Madly I rush to arms; though vain the fight,
Yet burns my soul, in fury and despair,
To rally a handful and to hold the height:		370
Sweet seems a warrior's death and danger a delight.
XLIII. "Lo, Panthus, flying from the Grecian bands,
Panthus, the son of Othrys, Phoebus' seer,
Bearing the sacred vessels in his hands,
And vanquished home-gods, to the door draws near,
His grandchild clinging to his side in fear.
'Panthus,' I cry, 'how fares the fight? what tower
Still hold we?'—Sighing, he replies ''Tis here,
The final end of all the Dardan power,		379
The last, sad day has come, the inevitable hour.
XLIV. "'Troy was, and we were Trojans, now, alas!
No more, for perished is the Dardan fame.
Fierce Jove to Argos biddeth all to pass,
And Danaans rule a city wrapt in flame.
High in the citadel the monstrous frame
Pours forth an armed deluge to the day,
And Sinon, puffed with triumph, spreads the flame.
Part throng the gates, part block each narrow way;		388
Such hosts Mycenæ sends, such thousands to the fray.
XLV. "'Athwart the streets stands ready the array
Of steel, and bare is every blade and bright.
Scarce the first warders of the gates essay
To stand and battle in the blinding night.'
So spake the son of Othrys, and forthright,
My spirit stirred with impulse from on high,
I rush to arms amid the flames and fight,
Where yells the war-fiend and the warrior's cry,		397
Mixt with the din of strife, mounts upward to the sky.
XLVI. "Here warlike Epytus, renowned in fight,
And valiant Rhipeus gather to our side,
And Hypanis and Dymas, matched in might,
Join with us, by the glimmering moon descried.
Here Mygdon's son, Coroebus, we espied,
Who came to Troy,—Cassandra's love to gain,
And now his troop with Priam's hosts allied;
Poor youth and heedless! whom in frenzied strain		406
His promised bride had warned, but warned, alas! in vain.
XLVII. "So when the bold and compact band I see,
'Brave hearts,' I cry, 'but brave, alas! in vain;
If firm your purpose holds to follow me
Who dare the worst, our present plight is plain.
Troy's guardian gods have left her; altar, fane,
All is deserted, every temple bare.
The town ye aid is burning. Forward, then,
To die and mingle in the tumult's blare.		415
Sole hope to vanquished men of safety is despair.'
XLVIII. "Then fury spurred their courage, and behold,
As ravening wolves, when darkness hides the day,
Stung with mad fire of famine uncontrolled,
Prowl from their dens, and leave the whelps to stay,
With jaws athirst and gaping for the prey.
So to sure death, amid the darkness there,
Where swords, and spears, and foemen bar the way,
Into the centre of the town we fare.		424
Night with her shadowy cone broods o'er the vaulted air.
XLIX. "Oh, who hath tears to match our grief withal?
What tongue that night of havoc can make known
An ancient city totters to her fall,
Time-honoured empress and of old renown;
And senseless corpses, through the city strown,
Choke house and temple. Nor hath vengeance found
None save the Trojans; there the victors groan,
And valour fires the vanquished. All around		433
Wailings, and wild affright and shapes of death abound.