A custom there was in the Hesperian days of Latium, observed as sacred in succession by the Alban cities, and 35 now honoured by the observance of Rome, the greatest power on earth, when men first stir up the war-god to battle, whether their purpose be to carry piteous war among the Getæ, the Hyrcanians, or the Arabs, or to march as far as India, track the Morning-star to its home, and wrest the standards from the grasp of Parthia. There are two folding-gates of War—such the title they bear—clothed with religious awe and with the terrors of 5 Mars the cruel: they are closed by a hundred brazen bars and by the everlasting strength of iron, and Janus[247] never quits his guard on the threshold. When the fathers finally conclude for battle, the consul himself, in the pride of Quirinus’ striped robe and the Gabine[248] cincture, unbars the 10 grating portals, and with his own voice invokes battle; the rest of the warriors take up the cry, and brazen horns blare out in unison their hoarse assent. Thus it was that then, too, Latinus was urged to declare war against the family of Æneas and to unclose the grim gates. The good 15 old king recoiled from the touch, turned with averted eyes from the service he loathed, and shrouded himself in impenetrable gloom. Then darted down from the sky the queen of heaven, smote with her own royal hand the unwilling portals, and from their bursten fastenings, as Saturn’s 20 daughter might, flung back the valves on their hinges. All Ausonia, sluggish and moveless till then, blazes into fury; some commence their footmarch over the plain, some from the height of their steeds storm through the dust; one and all cry out for arms. Some are rubbing their 25 shields smooth and their javelins bright with unctuous lard, and putting their axes under the grindstone; there is joy in the carrying of the standard, joy in the hearing of the trumpet’s sound. And now there are five great cities with anvils everywhere set up, giving a new edge to 30 their weapons: Atina the mighty and Tibur the proud, Ardea, and they of Crustumium, and tower-crowned Antemnæ. Helmets are hollowed to guard the head; willows are twisted into wicker frames for shields; others are beating out brass into breastplates, or stretching ductile 35 silver into polished greaves. All the pride of sickle and share, all the passion for the plough are swallowed up in this; they bring out their father’s swords, and smelt them anew in the furnace. Here, in wild haste, is one snatching his helm from the chamber-wall; there is another bringing his snorting steeds to the yoke, clothing himself with shield and corslet of three-plied gold, and girding to his side his trusty sword. 5