Page:Virgil's Pastorals, Georgics and Aeneis - Dryden (1709) - volume 2.djvu/173

Their own Abodes: we, feeble few, conspire
To save a sinking Town, involv'd in Fire.
Then let us fall, but fall amidst our Foes, 475
Despair of Life, the Means of living shows.
So bold a Speech incourag'd their desire
Of Death, and added fuel to their Fire.
As hungry Wolves, with raging appetite,
Scour thro' the Fields, nor fear the Stormy Night; 480
Their Whelps at home expect the promis'd Food,
And long to temper their dry Chaps in Blood:
So rush'd we forth at once, resolv'd to die,
Resolv'd in Death the last Extreams to try.
$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$We leave the narrow Lanes behind, and dare 485
Th' unequal Combat in the publick Square:
Night was our Friend, our Leader was Despair.
What Tongue can tell the Slaughter of that Night?
What Eyes can weep the Sorrows and Affright!
An ancient and imperial City falls, 490
The Streets are fill'd with frequent Funerals:
Houses and Holy Temples float in Blood,
And hostile Nations make a common Flood.
Not only Trojans fall, but in their turn,
The vanquish'd Triumph, and the Victors mourn. 495
Ours take new Courage from Despair and Night;
Confus'd the Fortune is, confus'd the Fight.
All parts resound with Tumults, Plaints, and Fears,
And grisly Death in sundry shapes appears.