"Seek not, my son, a Latin lord.

Beware The purposed bridal.

Lo! a foreign guest Is coming, born to raise thee as thine heir, And sons of sons shall see their power confessed From sea to sea, from farthest East to West." These words, in stillness of the night's noon-tide, Latinus hears, nor locks them in his breast.
Ausonia's towns have heard them far and wide, Or ere by Tiber's banks the Dardan fleet doth ride.
XV.

Stretched on the grass beneath a tall tree lie Troy's chief and captains and Iulus fair, And wheaten platters for their meal supply ('Twas Jove's command), the wilding fruits to bear.
When lack of food has forced them now to tear The tiny cakes, and tooth and hand with zest The fateful circles desecrate, nor spare The sacred squares upon the rounds impressed, "What! eating boards as well ?" Iulus cries in jest.
XVI.

'Twas all; the sally, as we heard it, sealed Our toils.