The distant crests of the Apennines are tipped with crimson light; every wind is hushed to rest, and land and sea lie sleeping in the hallowed stillness of the dawn. But hark! the silence is broken by the measured beat of a thousand oars, and into the mouth of Tiber sweeps the Trojan fleet. As if they had been waiting for that signal, a multitude of birds at the same moment burst into song, and all the woods by the river-side ring with melody. Æneas is the first to leap ashore; and soon all his fleet lies moored on the yellow sand. Under the spreading boughs of an ancient oak sat Æneas with the young Iulus and those next to him in rank. Before them was spread a rustic feast of fruits plucked from the neighboring trees; and flat cakes, hastily prepared with meal and eggs and cheese, served them for dishes. When all their fruit was consumed they finished their meal by devouring the flat squares of cake. “Behold, we are eating our tables!” cried Iulus, laughing; and before he could add another word Æneas laid a warning finger on his lips. “No more, my child,” he said. “Thy words have a deeper meaning than thou deemest. Long ago I heard an oracle from my father, foretelling that in the place where hunger compelled us to devour our tables we should find a settled home and an abiding city. Here, then, our wanderings are at an end.” And thus the prophecy of Celæno, uttered in malice, was brought to a happy fulfilment, and turned into a matter of light jesting by an innocent child. On the day following Æneas chose out a hundred men from all his company, and sent them as envoys to the court of Latinus. Crowned with olive wreaths, to show that they came in peace, they set forth on their mission, and soon reached the open plain which lies before the gates of Laurentum, where the youth of Latium were assembled for the practice of archery, horsemanship, and other warlike exercises. Here they halted, and sent forward a messenger to announce their coming to the king. Permission being granted, they entered the gates under an escort, and were conducted to the royal palace, which stood on a hill, commanding the city, and surrounded by a hallowed grove. Here they were first ushered into an ante-chamber filled with warlike trophies—chariots and the beaked prows of ships, battle-axes, helmets, shields, and spears; while round the walls were ranged statues of the ancient kings and warriors of Latium. From here, with all due ceremony, they were brought into the presence of the king. Benign was the face of the venerable Latinus, and gracious were his words, as he gave welcome to his guests. “Children of Dardanus,” he said, “I know both your name and your fame, and ye come not hither as strangers. Whether ye come to this land of set purpose, or driven by adverse winds, I regard you as friends, and in some wise as kinsmen. Was not Dardanus, your ancestor, whose seat is now in heaven, a son of Italy?”