The Aeneid by Virgil Book 2 Page 38

crouched Hecuba and her daughters, huddled together like doves swept before a black storm, and clasping the images of the gods. But when she saw even Priam harnessed in the armour of his youth, ‘My poor husband,’ she cries, ‘what dreadful thought has driven you to don these weapons?

Where are you rushing to? The hour calls not for such aid or such defenders, not though my own Hector were here himself! Come hither, pray; this altar will guard us all, or you will die with us!’ Thus she spoke, then drew the aged man to her and placed him on the holy seat.

“But lo! escaping from the sword of Pyrrhus, through darts, through foes, Polites, one of Priam’s sons, flees down the long colonnades and, wounded, traverses the empty courts. Pyrrhus presses hotly upon