Aeneid 2.250-297

Meanwhile the sky turns and night rushes from the Ocean, covering both the earth and the sky and the tricks of the Myrmidons with a great shadow; spread out through the walls, the Teucrians were silent; sleep embraces their weary limbs. And now the Argive phalanx, with the ships drawn up, went from Tenedos through the friendly silence(s) of the quiet moon, seeking known shores, when the royal ship had lifted the torches, and Sinon, defended by the unfair fates of the gods secretly frees the Danaans, shut in the belly, and the pine bolts. The horse, laid open, returns those men to the airs and happily they bring themselves forth from the hollow oak, Thessandrus and Sthenelus, the leaders, and hard Ulysses, having slipped along the let-down rope, and Acamas and Thoas and the son of Peleus, Neoptolemus, and first Machaon and Menelaus and Epeos himself, the builder of the horse. They invade a city buried in sleep and wine; the watchmen are slaughtered, and with the gates having been opened, they receive all their allies and join knowing lines of battle.

(268) It was the time in which first rest begins for weary mortals and by gift of the gods most pleasingly winds. Behold, in dreams most sad Hector seemed to me to be present before my eyes and to pour our great tears, snatched by the two-horse chariot as once (he was), and black with bloody dust and pierced through his swelling feet (by) thongs—ah me, such as he was so much was he changed from that Hector who returns clothed in the spoils of Achilles or having thrown Phrygian fires at the ships of the Danaans!—bearing a dirty beard and hair stiff with blood and those very many wounds which he received around the paternal walls. Weeping, voluntarily he himself seemed to address the man and to bring out sad voices: o light of Dardania, o most faithful hope of the Teucrians, what such great delays have held (you)? From what shores, awaited Hector, do you come? How weary do we behold you after many deaths of your people, after changing labors of the men and city! What unworthy cause befouled your calm face (lit. faces)? Or why do I see these wounds? That man (responds) nothing, and does not delay over me asking empty things, but gravely leading groans from his deepest chest says, ‘Alas, flee, one born from a goddess, and snatch yourself from these flames. The enemy has the walls; Troy rushes from her high summit. Enough has been given to the fatherland and to Priam: if Pergama could have been defended by a right hand, it would have been defended even by this one, Troy entrusts her sacred items and her Penates to you; take these as companions of your fates, seek great walls for these which you will set up finally with the sea having been wandered over.’ Thus he speaks and brings with his hands the fillets and powerful Vesta and the eternal fire form the innermost shrines.