Some keep the gates, as vast a host
As ever left Myce'nae's coast;
Some block the narrows of the street,
With weapons threatening all they meet;
The stark sword stretches o'er the way,
Quick-glancing, ready drawn to slay,
While scarce our sentinels resist,
And battle in the flickering mist."
CONINGTON, _AEneid_, BOOK II.

As Panthus ceased speaking, several Trojan chiefs came up, and eagerly
joined AEneas in resolving to make a last desperate attempt to save
their native city. Together they rushed into the thick of the fight.
Some were slain, and some with Aeneas succeeded in forcing their way
to the palace of King Priam, where a fierce struggle was then raging.
Entering by a secret door, AEneas climbed to the roof, from which he
and the other brave defenders of the palace hurled stones and beams of
wood upon the enemy below. But all their heroic efforts were in vain.
In front of the principal gate, battering upon it with his huge
battle-axe, stood Neoptolemus (also called Pyr'rhus) the son of
Achilles. Soon its posts, though plated with bronze, gave way before
his mighty strokes, and a great breach was made, through which the
Greeks poured into the stately halls of the Trojan king. Then there
was a scene of wild confusion and terror.

The house is filled with loud laments and cries
And shrieks of women rend the vaulted skies.
DRYDEN, _AEneid_ BOOK II.

The aged king when he saw that the enemy was beneath his roof, put on