As was his wont, his fortune, and o'erjoyed

To front their anger raging at its height

Unflinching comes. No temples of the gods,

Not Jove's high fane on the Tarpeian rock,

Not Rome's high dames nor maidens had he grudged

To their most savage lust: that they should ask

The worst, his wish, and love the spoils of war.

Nor feared he aught save order at the hands

(Editor：meat)