Meanwhile, the city is all confusion and sorrow; My father Anchises’ house, remote and sheltered Among its trees, was not so far away But I could hear the noises, always clearer, The thickening din of war. Breaking from sleep, I climb to the roof-top, listening and straining The way a shepherd does on the top of a mountain When fire goes over the corn, and the winds are roaring, Or the rush of a mountain torrent drowns the fields And the happy crops and the work of men and oxen And even drags great trees over. And then I knew The truth indeed; the craft of the Greeks was hidden No longer from my sight. The house of a neighbor, Deiphobus, went up in flames; next door, Ucalegon was burning. Sigeum’s water Gave back the glow. Men shouted, and the trumpets Blared loud. I grab my arms, with little purpose, There was no sense in it, but my heart was burning To mass a band for war, rush to the hilltop With comrades at my side. Anger and frenzy Hurry me on. A decent death in battle Is a helpful thought, sometimes. And here came Panthus, running from the weapons, Priest of Apollo, and a son of Othrys, With holy relics in his hands, and dragging His little grandson, here came Panthus, running In madness to my door. ‘How goes it, Panthus? What stronghold still is ours?’ I had hardly spoken, When he began, with a groan: ‘It has come, this day Will be our last, and we can not escape it. Trojans we have been, Troy has been, and glory Is ours no more. Fierce Jupiter has taken Everything off to Argos, and Greeks lord it In a town on fire. The horse, high in the city, Pours out armed men, and Sinon, arrogant victor, Lights up more fires. The gates are standing open, And men are there by the thousands, ever as many As came once from Mycenae; others block The narrow streets, with weapons drawn; the blades Flash in the dark; the point is set for murder. A few of the guards are trying, striking blindly, For all the good it does.’ His words, or the gods’ purpose, swept me on Toward fire and arms, where the grim furies call, And the clamor and confusion, reaching heaven. Ripheus joined me, Epytus, mighty in arms, Came to my side in the moonlight, Hypanis, Dymas, And young Coroebus, Mygdon’s son, poor youngster, Mad with a hopeless passion for Cassandra, He wanted to help Priam, but never heeded The warnings of his loved one.