LXXV. But good AEneas, ere the games are done, The child of Epytus, companion dear And trusty guardian of his beardless son, Calls to his side, and whispers in his ear: "Go bid Ascanius, if his troop be here And steeds in readiness, with spear and shield In honour of his grandsire to appear." Then, calling to the thronging crowd to yield Free space, he clears the course, and open lies the field. LXXVI. Forth ride the boys, before their fathers' eyes, Reining their steeds. In radiant files they fare, And wondering murmurs from each host arise. All with stript leaves have bound the flowing hair. Two cornel javelins, tipt with steel, they bear, Some, polished quivers; and a pliant chain Of twisted gold around the neck they wear; Three companies--three captains scour the plain. Twelve youths, behind each chief, compose the glittering train. LXXVII. One shouting troop young Priam's lead obeys, Thy son, Polites, from his grandsire hight, And born erelong Italia's fame to raise. A dappled Thracian charger bears the knight, His pasterns flecked and forehead starred with white. Next Atys, whom the Atian line reveres, The youthful idol of a youth's delight, So well Iulus loved him. Last appears Iulus, first in grace and comeliest of his peers. LXXVIII. His a Sidonian charger; Dido fair This pledge and token of her love supplied. Trinacrian horses his attendants bear, Acestes' gift. Their bosoms throb with pride, While Dardans, cheering, welcome as they ride The sires that have been in the sons that are. So, when before their kinsfolk on each side Their ranks had passed, Epytides afar Cracks the loud whip, and shouts the signal, as for war. LXXIX. In equal bands the triple troops divide, Then turn, and rallying, with spears bent low, Charge at the call. Now back again they ride, Wheel round, and weave new courses to and fro, In armed similitude of martial show, Circling and intercircling. Now in flight They bare their backs, now turning, foe to foe, Level their lances to the charge, now plight The truce, and side by side in friendly league unite. LXXX. E'en as in Crete the Labyrinth of old Between blind walls its secret hid from view, With wildering ways and many a winding fold, Wherein the wanderer, if the tale be true, Roamed unreturning, cheated of the clue: Such tangles weave the Teucrians, as they feign Fighting or flying, and the game renew: So dolphins, sporting on the watery plain, Cleave the Carpathian waves and distant Libya's main.