from Dardania? See, the king is refusing you your bride 25
and your blood-bought dowry, and search is being made for
a foreign heir to fill the throne. Go on now, confront ungracious
perils, and earn derision; go, mow down the
Tuscan ranks, and spread over Latium the shield of peace.
These very words Saturn’s almighty daughter with her 30
own lips bade me say to you when you should be slumbering
in the still of night. Rise, then, bid your soldiery arm
and move from city to camp, set fire to the Phrygian
chiefs who have anchored in our fair river and to their