XIX. "Lo, these who think a paltry wall can save, A narrow ditch can thwart us,--these, so bold, With but a span betwixt them and the grave! Saw they not Troy, which Neptune reared of old, Sink down in ruin, as the flames uprolled? But ye, my chosen, who with me will scale Yon wall, and storm their trembling camp? Behold, No aid divine nor ships of thousand sail, Nor Vulcan's arms I need, o'er Trojans to prevail. XX. "Nay; let Etrurians join them, one and all, No raid, nor robbed Palladium they shall fear, Nor sentries stabbed beneath the night's dark pall. No horse shall hide us; by the daylight clear Our flames shall ring their ramparts. Dream they here To find such Danaan striplings, weak as they Whom Hector baffled till the tenth long year? But now, since near its ending draws the day, Take rest, and bide prepared the dawning of the fray." XXI. His outposts plants Messapus, set to guard The gates with watchfires, and the walls invest. Twice seven captains round the camp keep ward, Each with a hundred warriors of the best, With golden armour and a blood-red crest. These to and fro pace sentinels, and share The watch in turn; those, on the sward at rest, Tilt the brass wine-bowl. Bright the watch-fires flare, And games and festive mirth the wakeful night outwear. XXII. Forth look the Trojans from their walls, and line The heights in arms, and test with hurrying fear The gates, and bridges to the bulwarks join, And bring up darts and javelins. Mnestheus here, There bold Serestus is at hand to cheer, They, whom AEneas left to rule the host, Should ill betide them, or the foe draw near. Thus all in turn, where peril pressed the most, Keep watch along the wall, dividing danger's post. XXIII. Nisus, the bold, stood warder of the gate, The son of Hyrtacus, whom Ida fair, The huntress, on AEneas sent to wait, Quick with light arrows and the flying spear. Beside him stood Euryalus, his fere; Scarce on his cheeks the down of manhood grew, The comeliest youth that donned the Trojan gear. Love made them one; as one, to fight they flew, As one they guard the gates, companions tried and true. XXIV. Then Nisus: "Is it that the Gods inspire, Euryalus, this fever of the breast? Or make we gods of but a wild desire? Battle I seek, or some adventurous quest, And scorn to dally with inglorious rest, See yonder the Rutulians, stretched supine, What careless confidence is theirs, oppressed With wine and slumber; how the watch-fires shine, Faint, few, and far between; what silence holds the line.