LXIII. But good AEneas suffered not too far The strife to rage, not let Entellus slake His wrath, but rescued Dares from the war, Sore-spent, and thus in soothing terms bespake, "Poor friend! what madness doth thy mind o'ertake? Feel'st not that more than mortal is his aid? The gods are with him, and thy cause forsake. Yield then to heaven and desist."--He said, And with his voice straightway the deadly strife allayed. LXIV. Then, stirred with pity, the Dardanian throng Their vanquished kinsman from the contest bore. His sick knees wearily he drags along, Feeble and helpless, for his wound is sore; And loosened teeth and clots of curdled gore Spout forth, as o'er his shoulders nods each way The drooping head. They lead him to the shore, His gifts, the sword and helmet; but the bay And bull Entellus takes, the victor of the day. LXV. Forth steps the champion, glorying in the prize, Pride in his port, defiance on his brow. "See, Goddess-born; ye Teucrians, mark," he cried, "What strength Entellus in his youth could show; How dire a doom ye warded from his foe." He spake and, standing opposite the bull, Swung back his arm, and, rising to the blow, Betwixt the horns with hardened glove smote full, And back upon the brain drove in the splintered skull. LXVI. Down drops the beast, and on the earth lies low, Quivering but dead. Then o'er him, as he lay, Entellus cries "O Eryx, hear my vow. This life, for Dares, I devote this day, A nobler victim and a worthier prey. Accept it thou who taught'st this arm to wield The gloves of death. Unvanquished in the fray These withered arms their latest offering yield, These gauntlets I resign, and here renounce the field." LXVII. Next cries AEneas to the crowd: "Come now, Whoso hath mind in archer's feats to vie, Step forth, and prove his cunning with the bow": Then sets the prizes: on the beach hard by With stalwart arms he rears a mast on high, Ta'en from Serestus' vessel, and thereto A fluttering pigeon with a string doth tie, Mark for their shafts. Around the rivals drew, And in a brazen helm the gathered lots they threw. LXIII. Out leap the names; cheers hail the first in place, Hippocoon, son of Hyrtacus renowned; Then Mnestheus, victor in the naval race, Mnestheus, his brows with olive wreath still crowned. Third in the casque Eurytion's lot is found Thy brother, famous Pandarus, whose dart, Hurled at the Danaans, did the truce confound. Last comes Acestes, for with dauntless heart Still in the toils of youth the veteran claims his part.