Where, in a marble tomb, Dercennus lay,
A king that once in Latium bore the sway.
The beauteous Opis thither bent her flight,
To mark the traitor Arruns from the height.
Him in refulgent arms she soon espied,
Swoln with success; and loudly thus she cried:—
"Thy backward steps, vain boaster, are too late;
Turn, like a man, at length, and meet thy fate.
Turn, like a man, at length, and meet thy fate.
}