green throat out; even thus
Androgeus drew away, startled at the sight. We rush in and encircle them
with serried arms, and cut them down dispersedly in their ignorance of
the ground and seizure of panic. Fortune speeds our first labour. And
here Coroebus, flushed with success and spirit, cries: "O comrades,
follow me where fortune points before us the path of safety, and shews
her favour. Let us exchange shields, and accoutre ourselves in Grecian
suits; whether craft or courage, who will ask of an enemy? the foe shall
arm our hands." Thus speaking, he next dons the plumed helmet and
beautifully blazoned shield of Androgeus, and fits the Argive sword to
his side. So does Rhipeus, so Dymas in like wise, and all our men in
delight arm themselves one by one in the fresh spoils. We advance,
mingling with the Grecians, under a protection not our own, and join
many a battle [398-432]with those we meet amid the blind night; many a
Greek we send down to hell. Some scatter to the ships and run for the
safety of the shore; some in craven fear again climb the huge horse, and
hide in the belly they knew. Alas that none may trust at all to
estranged gods!

'Lo! Cassandra, maiden daughter of Priam, was being dragged with
disordered tresses from the temple and sanctuary of Minerva, straining
to heaven her blazing eyes in vain; her eyes, for fetters locked her
delicate hands. At this sight Coroebus burst forth infuriate, and flung
himself on death amid their columns. We all follow him up, and charge
with massed arms. Here first from the high temple roof we are
overwhelmed with our own people's weapons, and a most pitiful slaughter
begins through the fashion of our armour and the mistaken Greek crests;
then the Grecians, with angry cries at the maiden's rescue, gather from
every side and fall on us; Ajax in all his valour, and the two sons of
Atreus, and the whole Dolopian army: as oft when bursting in whirlwind
West and South clash with adverse blasts, and the East wind exultant on
the coursers of the Dawn; the forests cry, and fierce in foam Nereus
with his trident stirs the seas from their lowest depth. Those too
appear, whom our stratagem routed through the darkness of dim night and
drove all about the town; at once they know the shields and lying
weapons, and mark the alien tone on our lips. We go down, overwhelmed by
numbers. First Coroebus is stretched by Peneleus' hand at the altar of
the goddess armipotent; and Rhipeus falls,