bearing after Arcadian wont the name of Lycæan Pan.
He shows, moreover, the forest of hallowed Argiletum,
and appeals to the spot, and recounts the death of Argus,
once his guest. Thence he leads the way to the Tarpeian
temple, even the Capitol, now gay with gold, then rough 15
with untrimmed brushwood. Even in that day the sacred
terrors of the spot awed the trembling rustics; even then
they shuddered at the forest and the rock. “This wood,”
he says, “this hill with the shaggy brow, is the home of
a god of whom we know not; my Arcadians believe that 20