Note 118 — XVIII.
Ellen Frothingham translation
Æneid lib. viii. 447.
Their artful hands a shield prepare.
One stirs the fire, and one the bellows blows;
The hissing steel is in the smithy drowned;
The grot with beaten anvils groans around.
By turns their arms advance in equal time,
By turns their hands descend and hammers chime;
They turn the glowing mass with crooked tongs.
Dryden.