re, cold with crystal waves, is found
Fair Caere's stream, a spreading grove they gain.
Ages have spread its sanctity, and, crowned
With pine-woods dark as night, the hollow hills stand round.

LXXX. This grove, 'tis said, the tribes Pelasgian--they,
Who first in Latin marches dwelt of old--
Kept sacred to Silvanus, and the day
Vowed to the guardian of the field and fold.
Hard by, brave Tarchon and his Tuscans bold
Lay camped. His legions, stretching o'er the meads,
The Trojans from a rising ground behold.
AEneas here his toil-worn warriors leads;
Food for themselves they bring, and forage for their steeds.

LXXXI. Meanwhile fair Venus through the clouds came down,
Bearing her gifts. Couched in a secret glade,
By a cool river, she espies her son,
And hails him: "See the promised gifts displayed,
Wrought by my husband's cunning for thine aid.
Thy prowess now let proud Laurentum taste,
Nor fear with Turnus to contend." So said
Cythera's goddess, and her child embraced,
And on an oak in front the radiant arms she placed.

LXXXII. Joy fills AEneas; with insatiate gaze
He views the gifts, and marvels at the sight.
In turn he handles, and in turn surveys
The helmet tall with fiery crest bedight,
The fateful sword, the breastplate's brazen might,
Blood-red, and huge, and glorious to behold
As some dark cloud, far-blazing with the light
Of sunset; then the polished greaves of gold,
The spear, the mystic shield, too wondrous to be told.

LXXXIII. There did the Fire-king, who the future cons,
The tale of ancient Italy portray,
Rome's triumphs, and Ascanius' distant sons,
Their wars in order, and each hard-fought fray.
There, in the cave of Mars all verdurous, lay
The fostering she-wolf with the twins; they hung
About her teats, and licked in careless play
Their mother. She, with slim neck backward flung,
In turn caressed them both, and shaped them with her tongue.

LXXXIV. There, later Rome, and there, the Sabine dames
Amid the crowded theatre he viewed,
Raped by the Romans at the Circus games;
The sudden war, that from the deed ensued,
With aged Tatius and his Cures rude.
There stand the kings, still armed, but foes no more,
Beside Jove's altar, and abjure the feud.
Goblet in hand, the sacred wine they pour,
And o'er the slaughtered swine the plighted peace restore.