But with his warping body wards the wound. His hand and watchful eye keep even pace; While Dares traverses, and shifts his place, And, like a captain who beleaguers round Some strong-built castle on a rising ground, Views all the approaches with observing eyes; } This and that other part in vain he tries, } And more on industry than force relies. } With hands on high, Entellus threats the foe; } But Dares watched the motion from below, } And slipped aside, and shunned the long-descending blow. } Entellus wastes his forces on the wind, And, thus deluded of the stroke designed, Headlong and heavy fell; his ample breast, And weighty limbs, his ancient mother pressed. So falls a hollow pine, that long had stood On Ida's height, or Erymanthus' wood, Torn from the roots. The differing nations rise; And shouts and mingled murmurs rend the skies. Acestes runs with eager haste, to raise The fallen companion of his youthful days. Dauntless he rose, and to the fight returned; With shame his glowing cheeks, his eyes with fury burned. Disdain and conscious virtue fired his breast, And with redoubled force his foe he pressed. He lays on load with either hand, amain, And headlong drives the Trojan o'er the plain; Nor stops, nor stays; nor rest nor breath allows; } But storms of strokes descend about his brows, } A rattling tempest, and a hail of blows. } But now the prince, who saw the wild increase } Of wounds, commands the combatants to cease, } And bounds Entellus' wrath, and bids the peace. } First to the Trojan, spent with toil, he came, And soothed his sorrow for the suffered shame. "What fury seized my friend? The Gods, (said he) To him propitious, and averse to thee, Have given his arm superior force to thine. 'Tis madness to contend with strength divine." The gauntlet-fight thus ended, from the shore His faithful friends unhappy Dares bore: His mouth and nostrils poured a purple flood, And pounded teeth came rushing with his blood. Faintly he staggered through the hissing throng, And hung his head, and trailed his legs along. The sword and casque are carried by his train; But with his foe the palm and ox remain. The champion, then, before Æneas came, Proud of his prize, but prouder of his fame: "O goddess-born, and you, Dardanian host, Mark with attention, and forgive my boast; Learn what I was, by what remains; and know, From what impending fate you saved my foe." Sternly he spoke, and then confronts the bull; } And, on his ample forehead aiming full, } The deadly stroke, descending, pierced the skull. } Down drops the beast, nor needs a second wound, But sprawls in pangs of death, and spurns the ground.