Then woke Ausonia from her sleep.

Forth swarm Footmen and horsemen, and in wild career Whirl up the dust.

"Arm," cry the warriors, "arm!" With unctuous lard their polished shields they smear, And whet the axe, and scour the rusty spear.
Their banners wave, their trumpets sound the fight.
Five towns their anvils for the war uprear, Crustumium, Tibur, glorying in her might, Ardea, Atina strong, Antemnae's tower-girt height.
LXXXV.

Lithe twigs of osier in their shields they weave, And shape the casque, and in the mould prepare The brazen breastplate and the silver greave.
Scorned lie the spade, the sickle and the share, Their fathers' falchions to the forge they bear.
Now peals the clarion; through the host hath spread The watch-word.

Helmets from the walls they tear, And yoke the steeds.