The old man arises, and draws on
his body raiment, and ties the Tyrrhene shoe latchets about his feet;
then buckles to his side and shoulder his Tegeaean sword, and swathes
himself in a panther skin that droops upon his left.
his body raiment, and ties the Tyrrhene shoe latchets about his feet;
then buckles to his side and shoulder his Tegeaean sword, and swathes
himself in a panther skin that droops upon his left.
Virgil - Aeneid
Hither now the Lord of Fire descends from
heaven's height. In the vast cavern the Cyclopes were forging iron,
Brontes and Steropes and Pyracmon with bared limbs. Shaped in their
hands was a thunderbolt, in part already polished, such as the Father of
Heaven hurls down on earth in multitudes, part yet unfinished. Three
coils of frozen rain, three of watery mist they had enwrought in it,
three of ruddy fire and winged south wind; now they were mingling in
their work the awful splendours, the sound and terror, and the
[432-469]angry pursuing flames. Elsewhere they hurried on a chariot for
Mars with flying wheels, wherewith he stirs up men and cities; and
burnished the golden serpent-scales of the awful aegis, the armour of
wrathful Pallas, and the entwined snakes on the breast of the goddess,
the Gorgon head with severed neck and rolling eyes. 'Away with all! ' he
cries: 'stop your tasks unfinished, Cyclopes of Aetna, and attend to
this; a warrior's armour must be made. Now must strength, now quickness
of hand be tried, now all our art lend her guidance. Fling off delay. '
He spoke no more; but they all bent rapidly to the work, allotting their
labours equally. Brass and ore of gold flow in streams, and wounding
steel is molten in the vast furnace. They shape a mighty shield, to
receive singly all the weapons of the Latins, and weld it sevenfold,
circle on circle. Some fill and empty the windy bellows of their blast,
some dip the hissing brass in the trough. They raise their arms mightily
in responsive time, and turn the mass of metal about in the grasp of
their tongs.
While the lord of Lemnos is busied thus in the borders of Aeolia,
Evander is roused from his low dwelling by the gracious daylight and the
matin songs of birds from the eaves.
The old man arises, and draws on
his body raiment, and ties the Tyrrhene shoe latchets about his feet;
then buckles to his side and shoulder his Tegeaean sword, and swathes
himself in a panther skin that droops upon his left. Therewithal two
watch-dogs go before him from the high threshold, and accompany their
master's steps. The hero sought his guest Aeneas in the privacy of his
dwelling, mindful of their talk and his promised bounty. Nor did Aeneas
fail to be astir with the dawn. With the one went his son Pallas,
with the other Achates. They meet and clasp hands, and, sitting down
within the house, at length enjoy unchecked converse. The King begins
thus: . . .
[470-505]'Princely chief of the Teucrians, in whose lifetime I will
never allow the state or realm of Troy vanquished, our strength is scant
to succour in war for so great a name. On this side the Tuscan river
shuts us in; on that the Rutulian drives us hard, and thunders in arms
about our walls. But I purpose to unite to thee mighty peoples and the
camp of a wealthy realm; an unforeseen chance offers this for thy
salvation. Fate summons thy approach. Not far from here stands fast
Agylla city, an ancient pile of stone, where of old the Lydian race,
eminent in war, settled on the Etruscan ridges. For many years it
flourished, till King Mezentius ruled it with insolent sway and armed
terror. Why should I relate the horrible murders, the savage deeds of
the monarch?
heaven's height. In the vast cavern the Cyclopes were forging iron,
Brontes and Steropes and Pyracmon with bared limbs. Shaped in their
hands was a thunderbolt, in part already polished, such as the Father of
Heaven hurls down on earth in multitudes, part yet unfinished. Three
coils of frozen rain, three of watery mist they had enwrought in it,
three of ruddy fire and winged south wind; now they were mingling in
their work the awful splendours, the sound and terror, and the
[432-469]angry pursuing flames. Elsewhere they hurried on a chariot for
Mars with flying wheels, wherewith he stirs up men and cities; and
burnished the golden serpent-scales of the awful aegis, the armour of
wrathful Pallas, and the entwined snakes on the breast of the goddess,
the Gorgon head with severed neck and rolling eyes. 'Away with all! ' he
cries: 'stop your tasks unfinished, Cyclopes of Aetna, and attend to
this; a warrior's armour must be made. Now must strength, now quickness
of hand be tried, now all our art lend her guidance. Fling off delay. '
He spoke no more; but they all bent rapidly to the work, allotting their
labours equally. Brass and ore of gold flow in streams, and wounding
steel is molten in the vast furnace. They shape a mighty shield, to
receive singly all the weapons of the Latins, and weld it sevenfold,
circle on circle. Some fill and empty the windy bellows of their blast,
some dip the hissing brass in the trough. They raise their arms mightily
in responsive time, and turn the mass of metal about in the grasp of
their tongs.
While the lord of Lemnos is busied thus in the borders of Aeolia,
Evander is roused from his low dwelling by the gracious daylight and the
matin songs of birds from the eaves.
The old man arises, and draws on
his body raiment, and ties the Tyrrhene shoe latchets about his feet;
then buckles to his side and shoulder his Tegeaean sword, and swathes
himself in a panther skin that droops upon his left. Therewithal two
watch-dogs go before him from the high threshold, and accompany their
master's steps. The hero sought his guest Aeneas in the privacy of his
dwelling, mindful of their talk and his promised bounty. Nor did Aeneas
fail to be astir with the dawn. With the one went his son Pallas,
with the other Achates. They meet and clasp hands, and, sitting down
within the house, at length enjoy unchecked converse. The King begins
thus: . . .
[470-505]'Princely chief of the Teucrians, in whose lifetime I will
never allow the state or realm of Troy vanquished, our strength is scant
to succour in war for so great a name. On this side the Tuscan river
shuts us in; on that the Rutulian drives us hard, and thunders in arms
about our walls. But I purpose to unite to thee mighty peoples and the
camp of a wealthy realm; an unforeseen chance offers this for thy
salvation. Fate summons thy approach. Not far from here stands fast
Agylla city, an ancient pile of stone, where of old the Lydian race,
eminent in war, settled on the Etruscan ridges. For many years it
flourished, till King Mezentius ruled it with insolent sway and armed
terror. Why should I relate the horrible murders, the savage deeds of
the monarch?
