escape from these flames—the walls are in the enemy's hand—Troy is tumbling from its summit—the claims of country and king are satisfied—if Pergamus could be defended by force of hand, it would have been defended by mine, in my day. Your country's worship and her 5 gods are what she entrusts to you now—take them to share your destiny—seek for them a mighty city, which you shall one day build when you have wandered the ocean over.' With these words he brings out Queen Vesta[o] with her fillets and the ever-burning fire from the secret 10 shrine.
"Meanwhile the city in its various quarters is being convulsed with agony—and ever more and more, though my father Anchises' palace was retired in the privacy of embosoming trees, the sounds deepen, and the alarm of 15 battle swells. I start up from sleep, mount the sloping roof, and stand intently listening—even as, when among standing corn a spark falls with a fierce south wind to fan it, or the impetuous stream of a mountain torrent sweeps the fields, sweeps the joyous crops and the bullocks' 20 toil, and drives the woods headlong before it, in perplexed amazement a shepherd takes in the crash from a rock's tall summit. Then, indeed, all doubt was over, and the wiles of the Danaans stood confessed. Already Deiphobus' palace has fallen with a mighty overthrow 25 before the mastering fire-god—already his neighbour Ucalegon is in flames—the expanse of the Sigean sea shines again with the blaze. Up rises at once the shouting of men and the braying of trumpets. To arms I rush in frenzy.—not that good cause is shown for arms—but 30 to muster a troop for fight, and run to the citadel with my comrades is my first burning impulse—madness and rage drive my mind headlong, and I think how glorious to die with arms in my hand.
"But see! Panthus, escaped from an Achæan volley, 35 Panthus, Othrys' son, priest of Phœbus in the citadel, comes dragging along with his own hand the vanquished gods of his worship and his young grandchild, and mak-
