Then spake the Consul Aulus,
    He spake a bitter jest: 
  “Once the jay sent a message
    Unto the eagle’s nest:—­
  Now yield thou up thine eyrie 105
    Unto the carrion-kite,
  Or come forth valiantly, and face
    The jays in deadly fight.—­
  Forth looked in wrath the eagle;
    And carrion-kite and jay, 110
  Soon as they saw his beak and claw,
    Fled screaming far away.”

  VIII

  The Herald of the Latines
    Hath hied him back in state;
  The Fathers of the City 115
    Are met in high debate. 
  Then spake the elder Consul,
    An ancient man and wise: 
  “Now hearken, Conscript Fathers,[25]
    To that which I advise. 120
  In seasons of great peril
    Tis good that one bear sway;
  Then choose we a Dictator,
    Whom all men shall obey. 
  Camerium[26] knows how deeply 125
    The sword of Aulus bites,
  And all our city calls him
    The man of seventy fights. 
  Then let him be Dictator
    For six months and no more, 130
  And have a Master of the Knights,[27]
    And axes twenty-four."[28]

  IX

  So Aulus was Dictator,
    The man of seventy fights
  He made Aebutius Elva 135
    His Master of the Knights. 
  On the third morn thereafter,
    At dawning of the day,
  Did Aulus and Aebutius
    Set forth with their array. 140
  Sempronius Atratinus
    Was left in charge at home
  With boys, and with grey-headed men,
    To keep the walls of Rome. 
  Hard by the Lake Regillus 145
    Our camp was pitched at night: 
  Eastward a mile the Latines lay,
    Under the Porcian height. 
  Far over hill and valley
    Their mighty host was spread; 150
  And with their thousand watch-fires
    The midnight sky was red.

[The names of the towns which contributed to the Latin army of threescore thousand men, and their order of battle.  All Latium was there to fight with Rome.]

  Up rose the golden morning
    Over the Porcian height,
  The proud Ides of Quintilis 155
    Marked evermore with white. 
  Not without; secret trouble
    Our bravest saw the foes;
  For girt by threescore thousand spears
    The thirty standards rose. 160
  From every warlike city
    That boasts the Latian name,
  Foredoomed to dogs and vultures,
    That gallant army came;
  From Sofia’s purple vineyards, 165
    From Norba’s ancient wall,
  From the white streets of Tusculum,
    The proudest town of all;