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The war-god's terrors round them spread

An atmosphere of sacred dread.

A hundred bolts the entrance guard,

And Janus there keeps watch and ward.

These, when his peers on war decide,

The consul, all in antique pride

Of Gabine cincture deftly tied

And purple-striped attire,

With grating noise himself unbars,

And calls aloud on Father Mars:

The warrior train takes up the cry,

And horns with brazen symphony

Their hoarse assent conspire."

Since Latinus will not do his office, Juno in person—so the poet has it—descends from heaven, smites upon the barred portals, and "lets slip the dogs of war."

Ausonia, all inert before,

Takes fire and blazes to the core:

And some on foot their march essay,

Some, mounted, storm along the way;

To arms! cry one and all:

With unctuous lard their shields they clean,

And make their javelins bright and sheen,

Their axes on the whetstone grind;

Look how that banner takes the wind!

Hark to yon trumpet's call!

Five mighty towns, with anvils set,

In emulous haste their weapons whet:

Crustumium, Tibur the renowned,

And strong Atina there are found,

And Ardea, and Antemnæ crowned

With turrets round her wall.

Steel caps they frame their brows to fit,

And osier twigs for bucklers knit: