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.