No More Learning

Then the seed of Anchises,
summoning all in order, declares Cloanthus conqueror by herald's outcry,
and dresses his brows in green bay, and gives gifts to each crew, three
bullocks of their choice, and wine, and a large talent of silver to take
away. For their captains he adds special honours; to the winner a scarf
wrought with gold, encircled by a double border of deep Meliboean
purple; woven in it is the kingly boy on leafy Ida, chasing swift stags
with javelin and racing feet, keen and as one panting; him Jove's
swooping armour-bearer hath caught up from Ida in his talons; his aged
guardians stretch their hands vainly upwards, and the barking of hounds
rings fierce into the air. But to him who, next in merit, held the
second place, he gives to wear a corslet triple-woven with hooks of
polished gold, stripped by his own conquering hand from Demoleos under
tall Troy by the swift Simois, an ornament and safeguard among arms.
Scarce could the straining shoulders of his servants Phegeus and Sagaris
carry its heavy folds; yet with it on, Demoleos at [265-302]full speed
would chase the scattered Trojans. The third prize he makes twin
cauldrons of brass, and bowls wrought in silver and rough with tracery.
And now all moved away in the pride and wealth of their prizes, their
brows bound with scarlet ribbons; when, hardly torn loose by all his art
from the cruel rock, his oars lost, rowing feebly with a single tier,
Sergestus brought in his ship jeered at and unhonoured. Even as often a
serpent caught on a highway, if a brazen wheel hath gone aslant over him
or a wayfarer left him half dead and mangled with the blow of a heavy
stone, wreathes himself slowly in vain effort to escape, in part
undaunted, his eyes ablaze and his hissing throat lifted high; in part
the disabling wound keeps him coiling in knots and twisting back on his
own body; so the ship kept rowing slowly on, yet hoists sail and under
full sail glides into the harbour mouth. Glad that the ship is saved and
the crew brought back, Aeneas presents Sergestus with his promised
reward. A slave woman is given him not unskilled in Minerva's labours,
Pholoe the Cretan, with twin boys at her breast.

This contest sped, good Aeneas moved to a grassy plain girt all about
with winding wooded hills, and amid the valley an amphitheatre, whither,
with a concourse of many thousands, the hero advanced and took his seat
on a mound. Here he allures with rewards and offer of prizes those who
will try their hap in the fleet foot-race. Trojans and Sicilians gather
mingling from all sides, Nisus and Euryalus foremost . . . Euryalus in
the flower of youth and famed for beauty, Nisus for pure love of the
boy.
Next follows renowned Diores, of Priam's royal line; after him
Salius and Patron together, the one Acarnanian, the other Tegean by
family and of Arcadian blood; next two men of Sicily, Helymus and
Panopes, foresters and attendants on old Acestes; many besides whose
fame is hid in [303-338]obscurity. Then among them all Aeneas spoke
thus: 'Hearken to this, and attend in good cheer. None out of this
number will I let go without a gift. To each will I give two glittering
Gnosian spearheads of polished steel, and an axe chased with silver to
bear away; one and all shall be honoured thus. The three foremost shall
receive prizes, and have pale olive bound about their head. The first
shall have a caparisoned horse as conqueror; the second an Amazonian
quiver filled with arrows of Thrace, girt about by a broad belt of gold,
and on the link of the clasp a polished gem; let the third depart with
this Argolic helmet for recompense. ' This said, they take their place,
and the signal once heard, dart over the course and leave the line,
pouring forth like a storm-cloud while they mark the goal. Nisus gets
away first, and shoots out far in front of the throng, fleeter than the
winds or the winged thunderbolt. Next to him, but next by a long gap,
Salius follows; then, left a space behind him, Euryalus third . . . and
Helymus comes after Euryalus; and close behind him, lo! Diores goes
flying, just grazing foot with foot, hard on his shoulder; and if a
longer space were left, he would creep out past him and win the tie. And
now almost in the last space, they began to come up breathless to the
goal, when unfortunate Nisus trips on the slippery blood of the slain
steers, where haply it had spilled over the ground and wetted the green
grass. Here, just in the flush of victory, he lost his feet; they slid
away on the ground they pressed, and he fell forward right among the
ordure and blood of the sacrifice. Yet forgot he not his darling
Euryalus; for rising, he flung himself over the slippery ground in front
of Salius, and he rolled over and lay all along on the hard sand.