Ab urbe condita

He spoke at some length upon the general character of the war they were engaged in, and especially upon the style of equipment which the enemy had adopted, which he said served for idle pageantry rather than for practical use.

Plumes did not inflict wounds, their painted and gilded shields would be penetrated by the Roman javelin, and an army resplendent in dazzling white would be stained with gore when the sword came into play.

A Samnite army all in gold and silver had once been annihilated by his father, and those trappings had brought more glory as spoils to the victors than they had brought as armour to the wearers.

It might, perhaps, be a special privilege granted to his name and family that the greatest efforts which the Samnites had ever made should be frustrated and defeated under their generalship and that the spoils which they brought back should be sufficiently splendid to serve as decorations for the public places in the City.

Treaties so often asked for, so often broken, brought about the intervention of the immortal gods, and if it were permitted to make to form any conjecture as to the feelings of the gods, he believed that they had never

been more incensed against any army than against this one of the Samnites It had taken part in infamous rites and been stained with the mingled blood of men and beasts;

it was under the two-fold curse of heaven, filled with dread at the thought of the gods who witnessed the treaties made with Rome and horror-struck at the imprecations which were uttered when all

oath was taken to break those treaties, an oath which the soldiers took under compulsion and which they recall with loathing. They dread alike the gods, their fellow-countrymen, and. the enemy.

These details the consul had gathered from information supplied by deserters, and his mention of them increased the exasperation of the troops. Assured of the favour of heaven and satisfied that humanly speaking they were more than a match for their foes, they clamoured with one voice to be led to battle, and were intensely disgusted at finding that it was put off till the morrow; they chafed angrily at the delay of a whole day and night.

After receiving the reply from his colleague, Papirius rose quietly in the third watch of the night and sent a pullarius to observe the omens.