Soon as on the morrow the risen day began to illumine 15 the earth with the first sparkle of her torch, some here, some there, they set about exploring the city, the frontiers, the seaboard of the country. This, they learn, is the spring of Numicius, this the river Tiber, this the home of the brave Latian race. Thereupon Anchises’ son commands an 20 embassy of a hundred, chosen from all classes alike, to go to the monarch’s royal city, all of them with wreathed boughs from Pallas’ tree, to carry presents for his honoured hand, and entreat his friendship for the Teucrians. They delay not, but hasten at his bidding, moving with rapid pace, 25 while he is marking out the city with a shallow trench, preparing the ground, and surrounding this their first settlement on the coast, camp-fashion, with battlements and earthworks. Meanwhile the missioned band had performed their journey, and were in sight of the towers and 30 stately homes of Latium, and passing under the city wall. In a space before the town, boys and youths in their prime are exercising on horseback, and breaking in their harnessed cars among clouds of dust, or bending the sharp-springing bow, or hurling from the arm the quivering javelin, 35 or vying on foot or with the gloves, when galloping up, a messenger announces, in the aged monarch’s ears, that mighty men have arrived in strange attire. The king bids him summon them into the presence-hall, and takes his seat in the midst on his ancestral throne. It was a reverend pile, of vast proportions, raised high upon a hundred pillars, on the city’s topmost ground, the palace of Picus the Laurentine, clothed in the terror of waving woods and 5 hereditary awe. Here it was held to be of auspicious presage that kings should first take in hand the sceptre, and lift up the fasces: this temple was their senate-house, the hall for their sacrificial feasts: here, when a ram was slain, the seniors were wont to banquet down long lines 10 of tables. Here, too, in succession were the effigies of past generations, carved from ancient cedar—Italus and father Sabinus, planter of the vine, preserving in that mimic form his curved hook, and hoary Saturn, and the image of two-faced Janus, all standing in the vestibule, 15 and other kings from the earliest days, and heroes who had sustained the war-god’s wounds in fighting for their country. Moreover, there was hanging on the sacred doors abundance of armour, captive chariots, crooked axe-heads, helmet-crests, ponderous gates, javelins, and 20 shields, and beaks torn from vessels. There, as in life, was sitting, decked with Quirinal staff and robe of scanty border, in his left hand the sacred shield, Picus, tamer of