LIV. "Ah! vain to boast, if Heaven refuse to aid! Dragged by her tresses from Minerva's fane, Cassandra comes, the Priameian maid, Stretching to heaven her burning eyes in vain, Her eyes, for bonds her tender hands constrain. That sight Coroebus brooked not. Stung with gall And mad with rage, nor fearing to be slain, He plunged amid their columns. One and all, With weapons massed, press on and follow at his call. LV. "Here first with missiles, from a temple's height Hurled by our comrades, we are crushed and slain, And piteous is the slaughter, at the sight Of Argive helms for Argive foes mista'en. Now too, with shouts of fury and disdain To see the maiden rescued, here and there The Danaans gathering round us, charge amain; Fierce-hearted Ajax, the Atridan pair, And all Thessalia's host our scanty band o'erbear. LVI. "So, when the tempest bursting wakes the war, The justling winds in conflict rave and roar, South, West and East upon his orient car, The lashed woods howl, and with his trident hoar Nereus in foam upheaves the watery floor. Those too, whom late we scattered through the town, Tricked in the darkness, reappear once more. At once the falsehood of our guise is known, The shields, the lying arms, the speech of different tone. LVII. "O'erwhelmed with odds, we perish; first of all, Struck down by fierce Peneleus by the fane Of warlike Pallas, doth Coroebus fall. Next, Rhipeus dies, the justest, but in vain, The noblest soul of all the Trojan train. Heaven deemed him otherwise; then Dymas brave And Hypanis by comrades' hands are slain. Nor, Panthus, thee thy piety can save, Nor e'en Apollo's wreath preserve thee from the grave. LVIII. "Witness, ye ashes of our comrades dear, Ye flames of Troy, that in your hour of woe Nor darts I shunned, nor shock of Danaan spear. If Fate my life had called me to forego, This hand had earned it, forfeit to the foe. Thence forced away, brave Iphitus, and I, And Pelias,--Iphitus with age was slow, And Pelias by Ulysses lamed--we fly Where round the palace rings the war-shout's rallying cry. LIX. "There raged a fight so fierce, as though no fight Raged elsewhere, nor the city streamed with gore. We see the War-God glorying in his might; Up to the roof we see the Danaans pour; Their shielded penthouse drives against the door. Close cling their ladders to the walls; these, fain To clutch the doorposts, climb from floor to floor, Their right hands strive the battlements to gain, Their left with lifted shield the arrowy storm sustain.