But fail’d with over force, and whizz’d above his back.
Mopsus was next, but, ere he threw, address’d
To Phoebus thus: “O patron, help thy priest!
If I adore, and ever have adored,
Thy power divine, thy present aid afford,
That I may reach the beast.” The god allow’d
His prayer, and, smiling, gave him what he could:
He reach’d the savage, but no blood he drew;
Dian unarm’d the javelin as it flew.
This chafed the boar, his nostrils’ flames expire,
And his red eyeballs roll with living fire.
Whirl’d from a sling, or from an engine thrown,
Amid her foes, so flies a mighty stone,
As flew the beast: the left wing put to flight,
The chiefs o’erborne, he rushes on the right.
Empalamos and Pelagon he laid
In dust, and next to death, but for their fellows’ aid
Onesimus fared worse, prepared to fly,
The fatal fang drove deep within his thigh,
And cut the nerves: the nerves no more sustain
The bulk; the bulk, unpropp’d, falls headlong on the plain.
Nestor had fail’d the fall of Troy to see,
But, leaning on his lance, he vaulted on a tree;
Then, gathering up his feet, look’d down with fear,
And thought his monstrous foe was still too near.
Against a stump his tusk the monster grinds;
And in the sharpen’d edge new vigour finds;
Then, trusting to his arms, young Othrys found,
And ranch’d his hips with one continued wound
Now Leda’s twins, the future stars, appear,
White were their habits, white their horses were;
Conspicuous both, and both in act to throw
Their trembling lances brandish’d at the foe:
Nor had they miss’d, but he to thickets fled,
Conceal’d from aiming spears, not pervious to the steed;
But Telamon rush’d in, and happ’d to meet
A rising root, that held his fasten’d feet;
So down he fell, whom, sprawling on the ground,
His brother from the wooden gyves unbound.
Meantime the virgin huntress was not slow
To expel the shaft from her contracted bow;
Beneath his car the fasten’d arrow stood,
And from the wound appear’d the trickling blood.
She blush’d for joy: but Meleagrus raised
His voice with loud applause, and the fair archer praised.
He was the first to see, and first to show
His friends the mark of the successful blow.
“Nor shall thy valour want the praises due,”
He said; a virtuous envy seized the crew;
They shout; the shouting animates their hearts,
And all at once employ their thronging darts;
But, out of order thrown, in air they join,
And multitude makes frustrate the design.
With both his hands, the proud Ancaeus takes
And flourishes his double-biting axe;
Then, forward to his fate, he took a stride
Before the rest, and to his fellows cried:
“Give place, and mark the difference, if you can,
Between a woman warrior and a man.
The boar is doom’d, nor, though Diana lend
Her aid, Diana can her beast defend.”
Thus boasted he; then, stretch’d on tiptoe stood
Secure, to make his promise good;
But the more wary beast prevents the blow,
And upward rips the groin of his audacious foe:
Ancaeus falls; his bowels, from the wound,
Rush out, and clotted blood distains the ground.
Pirithous, no small portion of the war,
Press’d on, and shook his lance; to whom, from far,
Thus Theseus cried: “O stay! my better part,
My more than mistress, of my heart the heart:
The strong may fight aloof: Ancaeus tried
His force too near, and, by presuming, died.”
He said, and, while he spake, his javelin threw;
Hissing in air the unerring weapon flew;
But on an arm of oak, that stood betwixt
The marksman and the mark, his lance he fix’d.
Once more bold Jason threw, but fail’d to wound
The boar, and slew an undeserving hound,
And through the dog the dart was nail’d to ground.
Two spears from Meleager’s hand were sent,
With equal force, but various in the event;
The first was fix’d in earth, the second stood
On the boar’s bristled back, and deeply drank his blood.
Now, while the tortured savage turns around
And flings about his foam, impatient of the wound,
The wound’s great author, close at hand, provokes
His rage, and plies him with redoubled strokes,
Wheels as he wheels, and, with his pointed dart,
Explores the nearest passage to his heart:
Quick, and more quick, he spins in giddy gyres,
Then falls, and in much foam his soul expires.
This act, with shouts heaven-high, the friendly band
Applaud, and strain in theirs the victor’s hand.
Then all approach the slain, with vast surprise
Admire on what a breadth of earth he lies,
And, scarce secure, reach out their spears afar,
And blood their points to prove their partnership of war.
But he, the conquering chief, his foot impress’d
On the strong neck of that destructive beast,
And gazing on the nymph with ardent eyes,
“Accept,” said he, “fair Nonacrine, my prize,
And, though inferior, suffer me to join
My labours, and my part of praise, with thine:”
At this, presents her with the tusky head
And chine, with rising bristles roughly spread.
Glad she received the gift, and seem’d to take
With double pleasure, for the giver’s sake;
The rest were seized with sullen discontent,
And a deep murmur through the squadron went;
All envied, but the Thestian brethren show’d
The least respect, and thus they vent their spleen aloud:
“Lay down those honour’d spoils, nor think to share,
Weak woman as thou art, the prize of war;
Ours is the title, thine a foreign claim,
Since Meleagrus from our lineage came:
Trust not thy beauty, but restore the prize
Which he, besotted on that face and eyes,
Would rend from us.” At this, inflamed with spite,
From her they snatch the gift, from him the giver’s right.
But soon the impatient prince his falchion drew,
And cried, “Ye robbers of another’s due,
Now learn the difference, at your proper cost,
Betwixt true valour and an empty boast.”
At this advanced, and, sudden as the word,
In proud Plexippus’ bosom plunged the sword;
Toxeus amazed, and with amazement slow,
Or to revenge, or ward the coming blow,
Stood doubting, and, while doubting thus he stood,
Received the steel bathed in his brother’s blood.
Pleased with the first, unknown the second, news,
Althaea to the temples pays their dues,
For her son’s conquest, when, at length, appear
Her grisly brethren stretch’d upon the bier:
Pale at the sudden sight, she changed her cheer,
And with her cheer her robes; but hearing tell
The cause, the manner, and by whom they fell,
’Twas grief no more, or grief and rage were one
Within her soul; at last ’twas rage alone;
Which, burning upwards in succession, dries
The tears, that stood
