nec non et Tyrii per limina laeta frequentes convenere; toris iussi discumbere pictis, mirantur dona Aeneae, mirantur Iulum flagrantisque dei vultus simulataque verba pallamque et pictum croceo velamen acantho.
The Tyrians, too, are gathered in throngs throughout the festal halls; summoned to recline on the embroidered couches, they marvel at the gifts of Aeneas, marvel at Iulus, at the gods glowing looks and well-feigned words, at the robe and veil, embroidered with saffron acanthus.