They kneel for pardon, and repent their crime.
Twice have our foes been vanquished on the plain:
Then shall I wait till Turnus will be slain?
Your force against the perjured city bend;
There it began, and there the war shall end;
The peace profaned our rightful arms requires;
Cleanse the polluted place with purging fires."
He finished; and—one soul inspiring all—
Formed in a wedge, the foot approach the wall.
Without the town, an unprovided train