a great man must be wrought; betake ye to your might;
Betake ye to your nimble hands and all your mastery's sleight,
And hurry tarrying into haste."
No more he spake: all they
Fall swift to work and portion out the labour of the day:
The brazen rivers run about with metal of the gold,
And soft the Chalyb bane-master flows in the forges' hold.
A mighty shield they set on foot to match all weapons held
By Latin men, and sevenfold ring on ring about it weld.
Meanwhile, in windy bellows' womb some in the breezes take
And give them forth, some dip the brass all hissing in the lake, 450
And all the cavern is agroan with strokes on anvil laid.
There turn and turn about betwixt, with plenteous might to aid,
They rear their arms; with grip of tongs they turn the iron o'er.

But while the Lemnian Father thus speeds on the AEolean shore
The lovely light Evander stirs amid his lowly house,
And morning song of eave-dwellers from sleep the king doth rouse.
Riseth that ancient man of days and on his kirtle does,
And both his feet he binds about with bonds of Tyrrhene shoes;
Then Tegeaean sword he girds to shoulder and to side,
And on the left he flings aback the cloak of panther-hide. 460
Moreover, from the threshold step goes either watchful ward,
Two dogs to wit, that follow close the footsteps of their lord.
So to the chamber of his guest the hero goes his way,
Well mindful of his spoken word and that well-promised stay.
Nor less AEneas was afoot betimes that morning-tide,
And Pallas and Achates went each one their lord beside.
So met, they join their right hands there and in the house sit down,
And win the joy of spoken words, that lawful now hath grown;
And thuswise speaks Evander first:

"O mightiest duke of Trojan men,--for surely, thou being safe, 470
My heart may never more believe in Troy-town's vanquishing,--
The battle-help that I may give is but a little thing
For such a name: by Tuscan stream on this side are we bound;
On that side come Rutulian arms to gird our walls with sound.
But 'tis my rede to join to you a mighty folk of fight,
A wealthy lordship: chance unhoped this hope for us hath dight;
So draw thou thither whereunto the Fates are calling on.
Not far hence is a place of men, on rock of yore agone
Built up; Agylla's ci