To arms I call my comrades, and defy / the loathsome brood to battle.

Witness, ye ashes of our comrades dear, / ye flames of Troy, that in your hour of woe / nor darts I shunned, nor shock of Danaan spear. / If Fate my life had called me to forego, / this hand had earned it, forfeit to the foe.

Love your comrades! Love your parents! Love your country!

Dear comrades!

Comrades! of ills not ignorant; far more / than these ye suffered, and to these as well / will Jove give ending, as he gave before."

I am not a comrade, however my boyfriend is.

Comrade Tom fell in love with comrade Mary.

Then first with eager joy / "O Goddess-born," the bold Achates cries, / "how now? What purpose doth thy mind devise? / Lo! all are safe – ships, comrades brought again; / one only fails us, who before our eyes / sank in the midst of the engulfing main. / All else confirms the tale thy mother told thee plain."

He was angered by the murder of their comrades.

Scarce now the summer had begun, when straight / my father, old Anchises, gave command / to spread our canvas and to trust to Fate. / Weeping, I leave my native port, the land, / the fields where once the Trojan towers did stand, / and, homeless, launch upon the boundless brine, / heart-broken outcast, with an exiled band, / comrades, and son, and household gods divine, / and the great Gods of Troy, the guardians of our line.