Cassandra is taken

Heu nihil invitis fas quemquam fidere divis!
ecce trahebatur passis Priameïa virgo
crinibus a templo Cassandra adytisque Minervae,
ad caelum tendens ardentia lumina frustra,—
lumina, nam teneras arcebant vincula palmas.
non tulit hanc speciem furiata mente Coroebus,
et sese medium iniecit periturus in agmen.
consequimur cuncti et densis incurrimus armis.
hic primum ex alto delubri culmine telis
nostrorum obruimur, oriturque miserrima caedes
armorum facie et Graiarum errore iubarum.
tum Danai gemitu atque ereptae virginis ira
undique collecti invadunt, acerrimus Aiax,
et gemini Atridae, Dolopumque exercitus omnis;
adversi rupto ceu quondam turbine venti
confligunt, Zephyrusque Notusque et laetus Eois
Eurus equis; stridunt silvae, saevitque tridenti
spumeus atque imo Nereus ciet aequora fundo.
olli etiam, si quos obscura nocte per umbram
fudimus insidiis totaque agitavimus urbe,
apparent; primi clipeos mentitaque tela
adgnoscunt, atque ora sono discordia signant.
ilicet obruimur numero; primusque Coroebus
Penelei dextra divae armipotentis ad aram
procumbit; cadit et Rhipeus, iustissimus unus
qui fuit in Teucris et servantissimus aequi:
dis aliter visum; pereunt Hypanisque Dymasque
confixi a sociis; nec te tua plurima, Panthu,
labentem pietas nec Apollinis infula texit.
Iliaci cineres et flamma extrema meorum,
testor, in occasu vestro nec tela nec ullas
vitavisse vices Danaum, et, si fata fuissent
ut caderem, meruisse manu. Divellimur inde,
Iphitus et Pelias mecum, quorum Iphitus aevo
iam gravior, Pelias et volnere tardus Ulixi;
protinus ad sedes Priami clamore vocati.
hic vero ingentem pugnam, ceu cetera nusquam
bella forent, nulli tota morerentur in urbe.
sic Martem indomitum, Danaosque ad tecta ruentis
cernimus, obsessumque acta testudine limen.
haerent parietibus scalae, postisque sub ipsos
nituntur gradibus, clipeosque ad tela sinistris
protecti obiciunt, prensant fastigia dextris.
Dardanidae contra turris ac tota domorum
culmina convellunt; his se, quando ultima cernunt,
extrema iam in morte parant defendere telis;
auratasque trabes, veterum decora alta parentum,
devolvunt; alii strictis mucronibus imas
obsedere fores; has servant agmine denso.
Instaurati animi, regis succurrere tectis,
auxilioque levare viros, vimque addere victis.

Alas, no-one may put faith in unwilling gods! There comes Priam’s daughter Cassandra, hair down, dragged from the temple and the very shrine of Minerva, vainly raising heavenwards passionate eyes – eyes, because bonds cased her tender hands. Coroebus, raging, cannot bear the sight, and, ready to die, flings himself straight at the column. Following, we all charge into the thick of the fight. Now for the first time we are attacked from the temple roof by our own side’s fire, and take heavy casualties for the look of our arms and our misleading Greek plumes. Then the Greeks, with a roar, and angry that the girl had been retaken, attack us together from all sides, Ajax, fiercest of all, Agamemnon, Menelaus and the whole Greek army, like a storm bursting when the winds, south, north, and the east exulting in his steeds, clash head-on: the sea-god foams and rages with his trident, and stirs the waters to the depths. The Greeks we had scattered with our trickery through the shades of night and hunted through the city appear too: the leaders recognise that our shields and arms are fake, and our speech is wrong. At once we are outnumbered, and Coroebus is the first to fall, at Peneleus’s hands at the warrior-Goddess’s altar; Rhipeus too, greatest of all among the Trojans in justice and upholding the right. But the Gods see it differently, Hypanis and Dymas die too by friendly fire; and, Panthus, neither your great piety nor the garland of Apollo saved you as you fell. Ashes of Ilium and the dying fire of my people! I call you to witness that while you fell I did not try to avoid the casts or thrusts of the Greeks, and if my fate had been to die, the way I fought deserved it! But we are torn away, and, with Iphitus, now slowed by age, and Pelias, hampered by a wound from Ulysses, I am drawn by shouting straight to Priam’s seat. Here is a truly colossal engagement, to which others were barely battle at all, as though no-one was dying elsewhere in the city. We see war in the balance, Greeks storming the palace, the doors beset by soldiers roofed by shields; ladders cling to the walls. At the gates themselves, Greeks struggle up step by step; protecting themselves with their left arms, they use their shields to block missiles, and hold the rungs with their right. On the other side, Trojans are hewing down the towers and all the tops of the buildings, and preparing, as they see the end near, to use them as ammunition for defence: down they hurl the gilded beams and lofty emblems of their forefathers; some defend the lowest entrances, swords drawn, and hold the other doors in a dense phalanx. Our spirits are raised to relieve the palace, buoy the defenders with our support and give new strength to the conquered.