Chapter_153

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Now Procas yielding to the fates, his son

Mild Numitor succeeded to the crown.

But false Amulius, with a lawless power,

At length deposed his brother Numitor.

Then Ilia’s valiant issue, with the sword,

Her parent re-enthroned, the rightful lord.

Next Romulus to people Rome contrives;

The joyous time of Pales’ feast arrives;

He gives the word to seize the Sabine wives.

The sires enraged take arms, by Tatius led,

Bold to revenge their violated bed.

A fort there was, not yet unknown to fame,

Call’d the Tarpeian, its commander’s name.

This by the false Tarpeia was betray’d,

But death well recompensed the treacherous maid.

The foe on this new-bought success relies,

And, silent, march, the city to surprise.

Saturnia’s arts with Sabine arms combine;

But Venus countermines the vain design;

Entreats the nymphs that o’er the springs preside,

Which near the fane of hoary Janus glide,

To send their succours; every urn they drain,

To stop the Sabines’ progress, but in vain.

The Naiads now more stratagems essay,

And kindling sulphur to each source convey.

The floods ferment, hot exhalations rise,

Till from the scalding ford the army flies.

Soon Romulus appears in shining arms,

And to the war the Roman legions warms:

The battle rages, and the field is spread

With nothing but the dying and the dead.

Both sides consent to treat without delay,

And their two chiefs at once the sceptre sway.

But Tatius by Lavinian fury slain,

Great Romulus continued long to reign.