"Cease now," said Vulcan, "and these toils forbear, Cyclops of AEtna; hither turn your heed.
Arms for a hero must the forge prepare.
Now use your strength and nimble hands; ye need A master's cunning; to your tasks with speed." He spake; each quickly at the word once more Falls to his labour, as the lots decreed.
Now flows the copper, now the golden ore; Now melts the deadly steel; the flames resume their roar.
LIX.

A mighty shield they fashion, fit to meet Singly all arms of Latium.

Layer on layer, Seven folds in circles on its face they beat.
These from the windy bellows force the air, These hissing copper for the forge prepare, Dipt in the trough.

The cavern floor below Groans with the anvils and the strokes they bear, As strong arms timed heap measured blow on blow, And, turned with griping tongs, the molten mass doth glow.
LX.

While on AEolia's coast the Lemnian sire Wrought thus, the fair Dawn, mantling in the skies, Awakes Evander, and the lowly choir Of birds beneath the eaves invites to rise.
The Tuscan sandals to his feet he ties, The kirtle dons, the Tegeaean sword Links to his side.