“The dire destroyer of the Trojan reign, Fierce Agamemnon, such a prize to gain, (A proof we also were design’d by fate To feel the tempest that o’erturn’d your state,) With force superior, and a ruffian crew, From these weak arms the helpless virgins drew; And sternly bade them use the grant divine, To keep the fleet in corn, in oil, and wine. Each, as they could, escaped: two strove to gain Euboea’s isle, and two their brother’s reign. The soldier follows, and demands the dames; If held by force, immediate war proclaims. Fear conquer’d nature in their brother’s mind, And gave them up to punishment assign’d. Forgive the deed; nor Hector’s arm was there, Nor thine, Aeneas, to maintain the war; Whose only force upheld your Ilium’s towers, For ten long years against the Grecian powers. Prepared to bind their captive arms in bands, To heaven they rear’d their yet unfetter’d hands, ‘Help, Bacchus, author of the gift,’ they pray’d; The gift’s great author gave immediate aid; If such destruction of the human frame, By ways so wondrous, may deserve the name;