The palace of Deïphobus ascends In smoky flames, and catches on his friends. Ucalegon burns next: the seas are bright With splendour not their own, and shine with Trojan light. New clamours and new clangors now arise, The sound of trumpets mixed with fighting cries. With phrensy seized, I run to meet the alarms, Resolved on death, resolved to die in arms, But first to gather friends, with them to oppose (If Fortune favoured) and repel the foes; Spurred by my courage, by my country fired, With sense of honour and revenge inspired. Panthûs, Apollo's priest, a sacred name, Had 'scaped the Grecian swords, and passed the flame: With reliques loaden, to my doors he fled, And by the hand his tender grandson led. "What hope, O Panthûs? whither can we run? Where make a stand? and what may yet be done?" Scarce had I said, when Panthûs, with a groan,-- "Troy is no more, and Ilium was a town! The fatal day, the appointed hour, is come, When wrathful Jove's irrevocable doom Transfers the Trojan state to Grecian hands. The fire consumes the town, the foe commands; And armed hosts, an unexpected force, Break from the bowels of the fatal horse. Within the gates, proud Sinon throws about The flames; and foes, for entrance, press without, With thousand others, whom I fear to name, More than from Argos or Mycenæ came. To several posts their parties they divide; Some block the narrow streets, some scour the wide: The bold they kill, the unwary they surprise; Who fights finds death, and death finds him who flies. The warders of the gate but scarce maintain The unequal combat, and resist in vain." I heard; and heaven, that well-born souls inspires, Prompts me, through lifted swords and rising fires, To run, where clashing arms and clamour calls, And rush undaunted to defend the walls. Ripheus and Iphitus by my side engage, For valour one renowned, and one for age. Dymas and Hypanis by moonlight knew My motions and my mien, and to my party drew; With young Chorœbus, who by love was led To win renown, and fair Cassandra's bed; And lately brought his troops to Priam's aid, Forewarned in vain by the prophetic maid: Whom when I saw resolved in arms to fall, And that one spirit animated all, "Brave souls!" said I,--"but brave, alas! in vain-- Come, finish what our cruel fates ordain. You see the desperate state of our affairs, And heaven's protecting powers are deaf to prayers. The passive gods behold the Greeks defile Their temples, and abandon to the spoil Their own abodes: we, feeble few, conspire To save a sinking town, involved in fire. Then let us fall, but fall amidst our foes: Despair of life the means of living shows." So bold a speech encouraged their desire Of death, and added fuel to their fire. As hungry wolves, with raging appetite, Scour through the fields, nor fear the stormy night--