Oh, get thee hence, Thou son of Venus, flee these deadly flames. Our foemen hold the walls; our ancient Troy Is fallen from her lofty pinnacle Enough for king and country has been done; If Troy could have been saved by any hand, This hand of mine would have defended her. But now to thee she trusts her sacred gods And all their sacred rites; take these with thee As comrades of thy fates; seek walls for these, Which, when the mighty deep thou hast o’ercome, Thou shalt at length in lasting empire set. He makes as if to give the sacred images to Æneas, and vanishes. A confused sound of distant shouting and clashing of arms fills the room. Æneas leaps from his couch, now fully awake, and stands with strained and attentive ears. The truth dawns upon him as the sounds grow clearer, and as he can see from his window the red flames of burning Troy. He snatches up his arms and is rushing from the room when Panthus hurries in bearing sacred images in his hands and leading his little grandson. _Æneas_ (322): My friend, where lies the battle’s central point? What stronghold do we keep against the foe? _Panthus_ (324-335): The last, the fated day of Troy is come. The mighty glory of the Trojan state Is of the past, and we, alas, no more May call ourselves of Ilium; for lo, The cruel gods have given all to Greece, And foemen lord it in our blazing town; The great horse stands upon our citadel, And from his roomy side pours armed men; While Sinon, gloating o’er his victory, With blazing torch is busy everywhere. Down at the double gates still others press For entrance, all Mycenæ’s clamorous hosts, And weapons thick beset the narrow streets. In battle order stand the long drawn lines Of gleaming steel prepared for deadly strife. Scarce do the sturdy watchmen of the gates Attempt to hold their posts against the foe, But in the smothering press fight blindly on. At this, Æneas joins Panthus and together they rush out into the city. SCENE 2 A street of Troy, lit by the moonlight and the glare of burning buildings. Trojans rush in from different sides and rally to Æneas. _Æneas_ (348-354): O comrades, O ye hearts most brave in vain, If you have steadfast minds to follow one On desperate deeds intent, you see our case: The gods, who long have buttressed up our state, Have fled their sacred altars and their shrines, And left us to our fate. You seek to aid A city wrapped in flames. Then let us die And in the midst of death our safety find: Our safety’s single hope—to hope for none. The little band hurries off toward the noise of battle in neighboring streets. Enter from the other direction straggling bands of Greeks, drunk with victory. They burn and pillage on all sides, temples and homes alike. Re-enter Trojans led by Æneas. Androgeos, a Greek, thinking them to be Greeks, goes up to them. _Androgeos_ (373-375):