Pyrrhus

Pyrrhus came into Italy with a great army and many elephants.

Just on the threshold of the porch, behold / fierce Pyrrhus stands, in glittering brass bedight.

Strong as his father, Pyrrhus onward pushed, / nor bars nor warders can his strength sustain. / Down sinks the door, with ceaseless battery crushed.

These eyes saw Pyrrhus, rioting in blood, / saw on the threshold the Atridae twain.

See, now, Polites, one of Priam's sons, / scarce slipt from Pyrrhus' butchery, and lame, / through foes, through darts, along the cloisters runs / and empty courtyards.

At his heels, aflame / with rage, comes Pyrrhus. Lo, in act to aim, / now, now, he clutches him, – a moment more, / e'en as before his parent's eyes he came, / the long spear reached him. Prostrate on the floor / down falls the hapless youth, and welters in his gore.

The old man spoke and, with a feeble throw, / at Pyrrhus with a harmless dart he drave. / The jarring metal blunts it, and below / the shield-boss, down it hangs, and foils the purposed blow.

"Go then", cries Pyrrhus, "with thy tale of woe / to dead Pelides, and thy plaints outpour. / To him, my father, in the shades below, / these deeds of his degenerate son deplore."

"If Heaven of such a city naught should spare, / and thou be pleased that thou and thine should share / the common wreck, that way to death is plain. / Wide stands the door; soon Pyrrhus will be there, / red with the blood of Priam; he hath slain / the son before his sire, the father in the fane."

Strange news we hear: A Trojan Greeks obey, / Helenus, master of the spouse and sway / of Pyrrhus, and Andromache once more / has yielded to a Trojan lord.