While here, alas, our warriors flee Achilles’ might.
Æneas (469-478):
And here behold the ill-starred Rhesus’ white-winged tents,
Where fierce Tydides slays his sleeping foe; and drives
Those snowy steeds to join the Grecian camp, before
They graze in Trojan meadows or the Xanthus drink.
Alas poor Troilus, I see thee too, ill-matched
With great Achilles. Prone thou liest within thy car,
While in the dust thy comely locks and valiant spear
Are basely trailed.