So spake the Cytherean one and sought her son's embrace, And hung the beaming arms upon an oak that stood in face. But he, made glad by godhead's gift, and such a glory great, Marvelleth and rolleth o'er it all his eyes insatiate, And turns the pieces o'er and o'er his hands and arms between; The helm that flasheth flames abroad with crest so dread beseen: 620 The sword to do the deeds of Fate; the hard-wrought plates of brass, Blood-red and huge; yea, e'en as when the bright sun brings to pass Its burning through the coal-blue clouds and shines o'er field and fold: The light greaves forged and forged again of silver-blend and gold: The spear, and, thing most hard to tell, the plating of the shield. For there the tale of Italy and Roman joy afield That Master of the Fire had wrought, not unlearned of the seers, Or blind to see the days before. The men of coming years, Ascanius stem, all foughten fields, were wrought in due array. In the green den of Mavors there the fostering she-wolf lay, 630 The twin lads sporting round the beast, clung to her udders there, And sucked the nursing mother-wolf, and nothing knew of fear; But she, with lithe neck turned about, now this now that caressed, And either body with her tongue for hardy shaping pressed. Rome had he done anigh thereto and Sabine maidens caught From concourse of the hollow seats when roundway games were wrought There for the sons of Romulus the sudden war upstarts With Tatius, the old king of days, and Cures' hardy hearts. Then those two kings, the battle quenched, yet clad in battle-gear, Stand with the bowl in hand before the fire of Jupiter, 640 As each to each o'er slaughtered sow the troth of peace they plight. Anigh is Metius piecemeal dragged by foursome chariots light. --Ah, Alban, by the troth of words 'twere better to abide!-- There Tullus strews his lying flesh about the thicket wide, Nor sprinkling of a traitor's blood the bramble-bushes lack. There was Porsena bidding men take outcast Tarquin back, The while his mighty leaguer lay about the city's weal. For freedom there Æneas' sons were rushing on the steel: As full of wrath, as one who threats, might ye behold his frown, Because that Cocles was of heart to break the bridge adown; 650 And Cloelia from her bursten bonds was swimming o'er the flood.