The
Grecians
are lords of the burning [328-362]town.
Virgil - Aeneid
" So speaks he, and carries forth in his
hands from their inner shrine the chaplets and strength of Vesta, and
the everlasting fire.
'Meanwhile the city is stirred with mingled agony; and more and more,
though my father Anchises' house lay deep withdrawn and screened by
trees, the noises grow clearer and the clash of armour swells. I shake
myself from sleep and mount over the sloping roof, and stand there with
ears attent: even as when flame catches a corn-field while south winds
are furious, or the racing torrent of a mountain stream sweeps the
fields, sweeps the smiling crops and labours of the oxen, and hurls the
forest with it headlong; the shepherd in witless amaze hears the roar
from the cliff-top. Then indeed proof is clear, and the treachery of the
Grecians opens out. Already the house of Deiphobus hath crashed down in
wide ruin amid the overpowering flames; already our neighbour Ucalegon
is ablaze: the broad Sigean bay is lit with the fire. Cries of men and
blare of trumpets rise up. Madly I seize my arms, nor is there so much
purpose in arms; but my spirit is on fire to gather a band for fighting
and charge for the citadel with my comrades. Fury and wrath drive me
headlong, and I think how noble is death in arms.
'And lo! Panthus, eluding the Achaean weapons, Panthus son of Othrys,
priest of Phoebus in the citadel, comes hurrying with the sacred vessels
and conquered gods and his little grandchild in his hand, and runs
distractedly towards my gates. "How stands the state, O Panthus? what
stronghold are we to occupy? " Scarcely had I said so, when groaning he
thus returns: "The crowning day is come, the irreversible time of the
Dardanian land. No more are we a Trojan people; Ilium and the great
glory of the Teucrians is no more. Angry Jupiter hath cast all into the
scale of Argos.
The Grecians are lords of the burning [328-362]town.
The horse, standing high amid the city, pours forth armed men, and Sinon
scatters fire, insolent in victory. Some are at the wide-flung gates,
all the thousands that ever came from populous Mycenae. Others have
beset the narrow streets with lowered weapons; edge and glittering point
of steel stand drawn, ready for the slaughter; scarcely at the entry do
the guards of the gates essay battle, and hold out in the blind fight. "
'Heaven's will thus declared by the son of Othrys drives me amid flames
and arms, where the baleful Fury calls, and tumult of shouting rises up.
Rhipeus and Epytus, most mighty in arms, join company with me; Hypanis
and Dymas meet us in the moonlight and attach themselves to our side,
and young Coroebus son of Mygdon. In those days it was he had come to
Troy, fired with mad passion for Cassandra, and bore a son's aid to
Priam and the Phrygians: hapless, that he listened not to his raving
bride's counsels. . . . Seeing them close-ranked and daring for battle,
I therewith began thus: "Men, hearts of supreme and useless bravery, if
your desire be fixed to follow one who dares the utmost; you see what is
the fortune of our state: all the gods by whom this empire was upheld
have gone forth, abandoning shrine and altar; your aid comes to a
burning city. Let us die, and rush on their encircling weapons. The
conquered have one safety, to hope for none. "
'So their spirit is heightened to fury. Then, like wolves ravening in a
black fog, whom mad malice of hunger hath driven blindly forth, and
their cubs left behind await with throats unslaked; through the weapons
of the enemy we march to certain death, and hold our way straight into
the town. Night's sheltering shadow flutters dark around us.
hands from their inner shrine the chaplets and strength of Vesta, and
the everlasting fire.
'Meanwhile the city is stirred with mingled agony; and more and more,
though my father Anchises' house lay deep withdrawn and screened by
trees, the noises grow clearer and the clash of armour swells. I shake
myself from sleep and mount over the sloping roof, and stand there with
ears attent: even as when flame catches a corn-field while south winds
are furious, or the racing torrent of a mountain stream sweeps the
fields, sweeps the smiling crops and labours of the oxen, and hurls the
forest with it headlong; the shepherd in witless amaze hears the roar
from the cliff-top. Then indeed proof is clear, and the treachery of the
Grecians opens out. Already the house of Deiphobus hath crashed down in
wide ruin amid the overpowering flames; already our neighbour Ucalegon
is ablaze: the broad Sigean bay is lit with the fire. Cries of men and
blare of trumpets rise up. Madly I seize my arms, nor is there so much
purpose in arms; but my spirit is on fire to gather a band for fighting
and charge for the citadel with my comrades. Fury and wrath drive me
headlong, and I think how noble is death in arms.
'And lo! Panthus, eluding the Achaean weapons, Panthus son of Othrys,
priest of Phoebus in the citadel, comes hurrying with the sacred vessels
and conquered gods and his little grandchild in his hand, and runs
distractedly towards my gates. "How stands the state, O Panthus? what
stronghold are we to occupy? " Scarcely had I said so, when groaning he
thus returns: "The crowning day is come, the irreversible time of the
Dardanian land. No more are we a Trojan people; Ilium and the great
glory of the Teucrians is no more. Angry Jupiter hath cast all into the
scale of Argos.
The Grecians are lords of the burning [328-362]town.
The horse, standing high amid the city, pours forth armed men, and Sinon
scatters fire, insolent in victory. Some are at the wide-flung gates,
all the thousands that ever came from populous Mycenae. Others have
beset the narrow streets with lowered weapons; edge and glittering point
of steel stand drawn, ready for the slaughter; scarcely at the entry do
the guards of the gates essay battle, and hold out in the blind fight. "
'Heaven's will thus declared by the son of Othrys drives me amid flames
and arms, where the baleful Fury calls, and tumult of shouting rises up.
Rhipeus and Epytus, most mighty in arms, join company with me; Hypanis
and Dymas meet us in the moonlight and attach themselves to our side,
and young Coroebus son of Mygdon. In those days it was he had come to
Troy, fired with mad passion for Cassandra, and bore a son's aid to
Priam and the Phrygians: hapless, that he listened not to his raving
bride's counsels. . . . Seeing them close-ranked and daring for battle,
I therewith began thus: "Men, hearts of supreme and useless bravery, if
your desire be fixed to follow one who dares the utmost; you see what is
the fortune of our state: all the gods by whom this empire was upheld
have gone forth, abandoning shrine and altar; your aid comes to a
burning city. Let us die, and rush on their encircling weapons. The
conquered have one safety, to hope for none. "
'So their spirit is heightened to fury. Then, like wolves ravening in a
black fog, whom mad malice of hunger hath driven blindly forth, and
their cubs left behind await with throats unslaked; through the weapons
of the enemy we march to certain death, and hold our way straight into
the town. Night's sheltering shadow flutters dark around us.
