Now Procas yielding to the fates, his son Mild Numitor succeeded to the crown. But false Amulius, with a lawless power, At length deposed his brother Numitor. Then Ilia’s valiant issue, with the sword, Her parent re-enthroned, the rightful lord. Next Romulus to people Rome contrives; The joyous time of Pales’ feast arrives; He gives the word to seize the Sabine wives. The sires enraged take arms, by Tatius led, Bold to revenge their violated bed. A fort there was, not yet unknown to fame, Call’d the Tarpeian, its commander’s name. This by the false Tarpeia was betray’d, But death well recompensed the treacherous maid. The foe on this new-bought success relies, And, silent, march, the city to surprise. Saturnia’s arts with Sabine arms combine; But Venus countermines the vain design; Entreats the nymphs that o’er the springs preside, Which near the fane of hoary Janus glide, To send their succours; every urn they drain, To stop the Sabines’ progress, but in vain.