Aeneid

tries manifold approach, most craftily

invests each point of vantage, and renews

his unsuccessful, ever various war.

Then, rising to the stroke, Entellus poised

aloft his ponderous right; but, quick of eye,

the other the descending wrath foresaw

and nimbly slipped away; Entellus so

wasted his stroke on air, and, self-o'erthrown,

dropped prone to earth his monstrous length along,

as when on Erymanth or Ida falls

a hollowed pine from giant roots uptorn.

Alike the Teucrian and Trinacrian throng

shout wildly; while Acestes, pitying, hastes

to lift his gray companion. But, unchecked,

undaunted by his fall, the champion brave

rushed fiercer to the fight, his strength now roused

by rage, while shame and courage confident

kindle his soul; impetuous he drives

Dares full speed all round the ring, with blows

redoubled right and left. No stop or stay

gives he, but like a storm of rattling hail

upon a house-top, so from each huge hand

the champion's strokes on dizzy Dares fall.

Then Sire Aeneas willed to make a stay

to so much rage, nor let Entellus' soul

flame beyond bound, but bade the battle pause,

and, rescuing weary Dares, thus he spoke

in soothing words: “Ill-starred! What mad attempt

is in thy mind? Will not thy heart confess

thy strength surpassed, and auspices averse?

Submit, for Heaven decrees!” With such wise words

he sundered the fell strife. But trusty friends

bore Dares off: his spent limbs helpless trailed,

his head he could not lift, and from his lips

came blood and broken teeth. So to the ship

they bore him, taking, at Aeneas' word,

the helmet and the sword—but left behind

Entellus' prize of victory, the bull.

He, then, elate and glorying, spoke forth:

“See, goddess-born, and all ye Teucrians, see,

what strength was mine in youth, and from what death

ye have clelivered Dares.” Saying so,

he turned him full front to the bull, who stood

for reward of the fight, and, drawing back

his right hand, poising the dread gauntlet high,

swung sheer between the horns and crushed the skull;

a trembling, lifeless creature, to the ground

the bull dropped forward dead. Above the fallen

Entellus cried aloud, “This victim due

I give thee, Eryx, more acceptable

than Dares' death to thy benignant shade.

For this last victory and joyful day,

my gauntlets and my art I leave with thee.”

Forthwith Aeneas summons all who will

to contest of swift arrows, and displays

reward and prize. With mighty hand he rears

a mast within th' arena, from the ship

of good Sergestus taken; and thereto

a fluttering dove by winding cord is bound

for target of their shafts. Soon to the match

the rival bowmen came and cast the lots

into a brazen helmet. First came forth

Hippocoon's number, son of Hyrtacus,

by cheers applauded; Mnestheus was the next,

late victor in the ship-race, Mnestheus crowned

with olive-garland; next Eurytion,

brother of thee, O bowman most renowned,

Pandarus, breaker of the truce, who hurled

his shaft upon the Achaeans, at the word

the goddess gave. Acestes' Iot and name

came from the helmet last, whose royal hand

the deeds of youth dared even yet to try.

Each then with strong arm bends his pliant bow,

each from the quiver plucks a chosen shaft.

First, with loud arrow whizzing from the string,

the young Hippocoon with skyward aim

cuts through the yielding air; and lo! his barb

pierces the very wood, and makes the mast

tremble; while with a fluttering, frighted wing

the bird tugs hard,—and plaudits fill the sky.

Boldly rose Mnestheus, and with bow full-drawn

aimed both his eye and shaft aloft; but he

failing, unhappy man, to bring his barb

up to the dove herself, just cut the cord

and broke the hempen bond, whereby her feet

were captive to the tree: she, taking flight,

clove through the shadowing clouds her path of air.

But swiftly—for upon his waiting bow

he held a shaft in rest—Eurytion

invoked his brother's shade, and, marking well

the dove, whose happy pinions fluttered free

in vacant sky, pierced her, hard by a cloud;

lifeless she fell, and left in light of heaven

her spark of life, as, floating down, she bore

the arrow back to earth. Acestes now

remained, last rival, though the victor's palm

to him was Iost; yet did the aged sire,

to show his prowess and resounding bow,

hurl forth one shaft in air; then suddenly

all eyes beheld such wonder as portends