No More Learning

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? May the gods keep them in store for himself and his line!
Nay, he would even link dead bodies to living, fitting hand to hand and
face to face (the torture! ), and in the oozy foulness and corruption of
the dreadful embrace so slay them by a lingering death. But at last his
citizens, outwearied by his mad excesses, surround him and his house in
arms, cut down his comrades, and hurl fire on his roof. Amid the
massacre he escaped to the refuge of Rutulian land and the armed defence
of Turnus' friendship. So all Etruria hath risen in righteous fury, and
in immediate battle claim their king for punishment. Over these
thousands will I make thee chief, O Aeneas; for their noisy ships crowd
all the shore, and they bid the standards advance, while the aged
diviner stays them with prophecies: "O chosen men of Maeonia, flower and
strength of them, of old time, whom righteous anger urges on the enemy,
and Mezentius inflames with deserved wrath, to no Italian is it
permitted to hold this great nation in control: choose foreigners to
lead you. " At that, terrified by the divine warning, the Etruscan lines
have encamped on the plain; Tarchon himself hath sent ambassadors to me
with the crown [506-539]and sceptre of the kingdom, and offers the
royal attire will I but enter their camp and take the Tyrrhene realm.
But old age, frozen to dulness, and exhausted with length of life,
denies me the load of empire, and my prowess is past its day. I would
urge it on my son, did not the mixture of blood by his Sabellian mother
make this half his native land.