Around the other city sat two hosts In shining armor, bent to lay it waste, Unless the dwellers would divide their wealth⁠— All that their pleasant homes contained⁠—and yield The assailants half. As yet the citizens Had not complied, but secretly had planned An ambush. Their beloved wives meanwhile, And their young children, stood and watched the walls, With aged men among them, while the youths Marched on, with Mars and Pallas at their head, Both wrought in gold, with golden garments on, Stately and large in form, and over all Conspicuous, in bright armor, as became The gods; the rest were of an humbler size. And when they reached the spot where they should lie In ambush, by a river’s side, a place For watering herds, they sat them down, all armed In shining brass. Apart from all the rest They placed two sentries, on the watch to spy The approach of sheep and horned kine. Soon came The herds in sight; two shepherds walked with them, Who, all unweeting of the evil nigh, Solaced their task with music from their reeds. The warriors saw and rushed on them, and took