hic patrius Mavortis amor fetusque notantur
Romulei; pius amnis inest et belua nutrix;
electro Tiberis, pueri formantur in auro;
fingunt aera lupam; Mavors adamante coruscat.
Iam simul emissis rapido velocior Euro 100
fertur equis; strident Zephyri cursuque rotarum
saucia dividuis clarescunt nubila sulcis.
nec traxere moras, sed lapsu protinus uno,
the Alps from fear, Rome, anxious worthily to thank her Probus, hastened to beg the Emperor’s favour for that hero’s sons. Her slaves, Shock and horrid Fear, yoked her winged chariot; ’tis they who ever attend Rome with loud-voiced roar, setting wars afoot, whether she battle against the Parthians or vex Hydaspes’ stream with her spear. The one fastens the wheels to the hubs, the other drives the horses beneath the iron yoke and makes them obey the stubborn bit. Rome herself in the guise of the virgin goddess Minerva soars aloft on the road by which she takes possession of the sky after triumphing over the realms of earth. She will not have her hair bound with a comb nor her neck made effeminate with a twisted necklace. Her right side is bare; her snowy shoulder exposed; her brooch fastens her flowing garments but loosely and boldly shows her breast: the belt that supports her sword throws a strip of scarlet across her fair skin. She looks as good as she is fair, chaste beauty armed with awe; her threatening helm of blood-red plumes casts a dark shadow and her shield challenges the sun in its fearful brilliance, that shield which Vulcan forged with all the subtlety of his skill. In it are depicted the children Romulus and Remus, and their loving father Mars, Tiber’s reverent stream, and the wolf that was their nurse; Tiber is embossed in electrum, the children in pure gold, brazen is the wolf, and Mars fashioned of flashing steel.