Then writhed his hand; and, as he drove it down Deep in his breast, made many wounds in one. The Centaurs saw, enraged, the unhoped[35] success, And, rushing on in crowds, together press. At him, and him alone, their darts they threw; Repulsed they from his fated body flew. Amazed they stood; till Monychus began,-- O shame, a nation conquered by a man! A woman-man; yet more a man is he, Than all our race; and what he was, are we. Now, what avail our nerves? the united force Of two the strongest creatures, man and horse? Nor goddess-born, nor of Ixion's seed We seem, (a lover built for Juno's bed,) Mastered by this half man. Whole mountains throw With woods at once, and bury him below. This only way remains. Nor need we doubt To choke the soul within, though not to force it out. Heap weights, instead of wounds:--he chanced to see Where southern storms had rooted up a tree; This, raised from earth, against the foe he threw; The example shewn, his fellow-brutes pursue. With forest-loads the warrior they invade; } Othrys and Pelion soon were void of shade, } And spreading groves were naked mountains made. } Pressed with the burden, Cæneus pants for breath, And on his shoulders bears the wooden death. To heave the intolerable weight he tries; At length it rose above his mouth and eyes. Yet still he heaves; and, struggling with despair, Shakes all aside, and gains a gulp of air; A short relief, which but prolongs his pain: He faints by fits, and then respires again. At last, the burden only nods above, As when an earthquake stirs the Idæan grove. Doubtful his death; he suffocated seemed To most; but otherwise our Mopsus deemed, Who said he saw a yellow bird arise From out the pile, and cleave the liquid skies. I saw it too, with golden feathers bright, Nor e'er before beheld so strange a sight; Whom Mopsus viewing, as it soared around Our troop, and heard the pinions' rattling sound, All hail, he cried, thy country's grace and love; Once first of men below, now first of birds above!-- Its author to the story gave belief; For us, our courage was increased by grief: Ashamed to see a single man, pursued With odds, to sink beneath a multitude, We pushed the foe, and forced to shameful flight: Part fell, and part escaped by favour of the night. This tale, by Nestor told, did much displease Tlepolemus, the seed of Hercules; For often he had heard his father say, } That he himself was present at the fray, } And more than shared the glories of the day. } Old Chronicle, he said, among the rest, You might have named Alcides at the least; Is he not worth your praise?--The Pylian prince Sighed ere he spoke, then made this proud defence: