This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
432
THE ÆNEID.

Some to the gates impetuous crowd,
And guard and sentry slay;
Some hurl their javelins, and o'ercloud
With darts the face of day.
Æneas, foremost of the band,
Lifts up to heaven the appealing hand,
Beneath the rampart's shade,
Upbraids Latinus loud and long,
And bids the gods attest his wrong,
Forced on another war, though loth,
The Italians twice his foes, their troth
A second time betrayed.
Among the citizens within
Rises a wild discordant din:
Some to the foe would ope the town,
The portals backward fling,
And to the city-walls bring down
The venerable king;
Some, all on fire, for weapons call,
And hasten to defend the wall.
As when some venturous swain has tracked
The bees, in hollow rock close packed,
With fumes of pungent smoke,
They through their waxen quarters course,
And murmuring passionate and hoarse
Their patriot rage provoke:
The dusk scent issues from the doors;
A buzzing dull and blind
Thrills the deep cave: the smoke upsoars,
And mingles with the wind.

Thus as they toil, a further woe
The Latian realm o'ertook:
Each faint heart reeled beneath the blow,
And the whole city shook.'