HKB
his breadth of hand, Push’d on, and sped the galley to the land. Swift as a shaft, or winged wind, she flies, And, darting to the port, obtains the prize.
The herald summons all, and then proclaims Cloanthus conqu’ror of the naval games. The prince with laurel crowns the victor’s head, And three fat steers are to his vessel led, The ship’s reward; with gen’rous wine beside, And sums of silver, which the crew divide. The leaders are distinguish’d from the rest; The victor honour’d with a nobler vest, Where gold and purple strive in equal rows, And needlework its happy cost bestows. There Ganymede is wrought with living art, Chasing thro’ Ida’s groves the trembling hart: Breathless he seems, yet eager to pursue; When from aloft descends, in open view, The bird of Jove, and, sousing on his prey, With crooked talons bears the boy away. In vain, with lifted hands and gazing eyes, His guards behold him soaring thro’ the skies, And dogs pursue his flight with imitated cries.
Mnestheus the second victor was declar’d; And, summon’d there, the second prize he shar’d. A coat of mail, brave Demoleus bore, More brave Aeneas from his shoulders tore, In single combat on the Trojan shore: This was ordain’d for Mnestheus to possess; In war for his defence, for ornament in peace. Rich was the gift, and glorious to behold, But yet so pond’rous with its plates of gold, That scarce two servants could the weight sustain; Yet, loaded thus, Demoleus o’er the plain Pursued and lightly seiz’d the Trojan train. The third, succeeding to the last reward, Two goodly bowls of massy silver shar’d, With figures prominent, and richly wrought, And two brass caldrons from Dodona brought.
Thus all, rewarded by the hero’s hands, Their conqu’ring temples bound with purple bands; And now Sergesthus, clearing from the rock, Brought back his galley shatter’d with the shock. Forlorn she look’d, without an aiding oar, And, houted by the vulgar, made to shore. As when a snake, surpris’d upon the road, Is crush’d athwart her body by the load Of heavy wheels; or with a mortal wound Her belly bruis’d, and trodden to the ground: In vain, with loosen’d curls, she crawls along; Yet, fierce above, she brandishes her tongue; Glares with her eyes, and bristles with her scales; But, groveling in the dust, her parts unsound she trails: So slowly to the port the Centaur tends, But, what she wants in oars, with sails amends. Yet, for his galley sav’d, the grateful prince Is pleas’d th’ unhappy chief to recompense. Pholoe, the Cretan slave, rewards his care, Beauteous herself, with lovely twins as fair.
From thence his way the Trojan hero bent Into the neighb’ring plain, with mountains pent, Whose sides were shaded with surrounding wood. Full in the midst of this fair valley stood A native theatre, which, rising slow By just degrees, o’erlook’d the ground below. High on a sylvan throne the leader sate; A num’rous train attend in solemn state. Here those that in the rapid course delight, Desire of honour and the prize invite. The rival runners without order stand; The Trojans mix’d with the Sicilian band. First Nisus, with Euryalus, appears; Euryalus a boy of blooming years, With sprightly grace and equal beauty crown’d; Nisus, for friendship to the youth renown’d. Diores next, of Priam’s royal race, Then Salius joined with Patron, took their place; But Patron in Arcadia had his birth, And Salius his from Arcananian earth; Then two Sicilian youths, the names of these, Swift Helymus, and lovely Panopes: Both jolly huntsmen, both in forest bred, And owning old Acestes for their head; With sev’ral others of ignobler name, Whom time has not deliver’d o’er to fame.