"'Dost thou for _this_, dear mother, me through fire And foemen safely to my home restore; To see Creusa, and my son and sire Each foully butchered in the other's gore, And Danaans dealing slaughter at the door?
Arms--bring me arms! Troy's dying moments call The vanquished.

Give me to the Greeks.

Once more Let me revive the battle; ne'er shall all Die unrevenged this day, nor tamely meet their fall.' XCI.

"Once more I girt me with the sword and shield, And forth had soon into the battle hied, When lo, Creusa at the doorway kneeled, And reached Iulus to his sire and cried: 'If death thou seekest, take me at thy side Thy death to share, but if, expert in strife, Thou hop'st in arms, here guard us and abide.
To whom dost thou expose Iulus' life, Thy father's, yea, and mine, once called, alas! thy wife.' XCII.

"So wailed Creusa, and in wild despair Filled all the palace with her sobs and cries, When lo! a portent, wondrous to declare.
For while, 'twixt sorrowing parents' hands and eyes, Stood young Iulus, wildered with surprise, Up from the summit of his fair, young head A tuft was seen of flickering flame to rise.
Gently and harmless to the touch it spread Around his tender brows, and on his temples fed.
XCIII.