As these are slain, fresh numbers still appear, And wage with Perseus an unequal war; To rob him of his right⁠—the maid he won, By honour, promise, and desert his own. With him the father of the beauteous bride, The mother, and the frighted virgin, side: With shrieks and doleful cries they rend the air: Their shrieks confounded with the din of war, With clashing arms, and groanings of the slain, They grieve unpitied, and unheard complain. The floor with ruddy streams Bellona stains; And Phineus a new war with double rage maintains.