On the side-altar, censed with sacred smoke, And bright with flaming fires; The gods, he cried, Have with their holy trade our hands supplied: Why use we not their gifts?--Then from the floor An altar-stone he heaved, with all the load it bore; Altar and altar's freight together flew, } Where thickest thronged the Lapithæan crew, } And, at once, Broteas and Oryus slew. } Oryus' mother, Mycale, was known Down from her sphere to draw the labouring moon. Exadius cried,--Unpunished shall not go This fact, if arms are found against the foe.-- He looked about, where on a pine were spread The votive horns of a stag's branching head: At Grineus these he throws; so just they fly, That the sharp antlers stuck in either eye. Breathless and blind he fell; with blood besmeared, His eye-balls beaten out hung dangling on his beard. Fierce Rhætus from the hearth a burning brand Selects, and whirling waves, till from his hand The fire took flame; then dashed it from the right, On fair Charaxus' temples, near the sight: The whistling pest came on, and pierced the bone, And caught the yellow hair, that shrivelled while it shone; Caught, like dry stubble fired, or like seerwood; } Yet from the wound ensued no purple flood } But looked a bubbling mass of frying blood. } His blazing locks sent forth a crackling sound, And hissed, like red-hot iron within the smithy drowned. The wounded warrior shook his flaming hair, Then (what a team of horse could hardly rear,) He heaves the threshold-stone, but could not throw; The weight itself forbad the threatened blow; Which, dropping from his lifted arms, came down Full on Cometes' head, and crushed his crown. Nor Rhætus then retained his joy; but said, } So by their fellows may our foes be sped.-- } Then with redoubled strokes he plies his head: } The burning lever not deludes his pains, But drives the battered skull within the brains. Thus flushed, the conqueror, with force renewed, Evagrus, Dryas, Corythus, pursued. First, Corythus, with downy cheeks, he slew; Whose fall when fierce Evagrus had in view, He cried,--What palm is from a beardless prey? Rhætus prevents what more he had to say; And drove within his mouth the fiery death, Which entered hissing in, and choked his breath. At Dryas next he flew; but weary chance No longer would the same success advance; But, while he whirled in fiery circles round } The brand, a sharpened stake strong Dryas found, } And in the shoulder's joint inflicts the wound. } The weapon struck; which, roaring out with pain, } He drew; nor longer durst the fight maintain, }