See, I give up the
gauntlets
of Eryx; dismiss thy
fears; and do thou put off thy Trojan gloves.
fears; and do thou put off thy Trojan gloves.
Virgil - Aeneid
how long is it seemly to keep me?
bid me carry
off thy gifts. ' Therewith all the Dardanians murmured assent, and bade
yield him the promised prize. At this aged Acestes spoke sharply to
Entellus, as he sate next him on the green cushion of grass: 'Entellus,
bravest of heroes once of old in vain, wilt thou thus idly let a gift so
great be borne away uncontested? Where now prithee is divine Eryx, thy
master of fruitless fame? where thy renown over all Sicily, and those
spoils hanging in thine house? ' Thereat he: 'Desire of glory is not
gone, nor ambition checked by fear; but torpid age dulls my chilly
blood, and my strength of limb is numb and outworn. If I had what once
was mine, if I had now that prime of years, yonder braggart's boast and
confidence, it had taken no prize of goodly bullock to allure me; nor
heed I these gifts. ' So he spoke, and on that flung down a pair of
gloves of giant weight, with whose hard hide bound about his wrists
valiant Eryx was wont to come to battle. They stood amazed; so stiff and
grim lay the vast sevenfold oxhide sewed in with lead and iron. Dares
most of all shrinks far back in horror, and the noble son of Anchises
turns round this way and that their vast weight and voluminous folds.
Then the old man spoke thus in deep accents: 'How, had they seen the
gloves [411-444]that were Hercules' own armour, and the fatal fight on
this very beach? These arms thy brother Eryx once wore; thou seest them
yet stained with blood and spattered brains. In them he stood to face
great Alcides; to them was I used while fuller blood supplied me
strength, and envious old age had not yet strewn her snows on either
temple. But if Dares of Troy will have none of these our arms, and good
Aeneas is resolved on it, and my patron Acestes approves, let us make
the battle even.
See, I give up the gauntlets of Eryx; dismiss thy
fears; and do thou put off thy Trojan gloves. ' So spoke he, and throwing
back the fold of his raiment from his shoulders, he bares the massive
joints and limbs, the great bones and muscles, and stands up huge in the
middle of the ground. Then Anchises' lordly seed brought out equal
gloves and bound the hands of both in matched arms. Straightway each
took his stand on tiptoe, and undauntedly raised his arms high in air.
They lift their heads right back and away out of reach of blows, and
make hand play through hand, inviting attack; the one nimbler of foot
and confident in his youth, the other mighty in mass of limb, but his
knees totter tremulous and slow, and sick panting shakes his vast frame.
Many a mutual blow they deliver in vain, many an one they redouble on
chest and side, sounding hollow and loud: hands play fast about ear and
temple, and jawbones clash under the hard strokes. Old Entellus stands
immoveable and astrain, only parrying hits with body and watchful eye.
The other, as one who casts mounts against some high city or blockades a
hill-fort in arms, tries this and that entrance, and ranges cunningly
over all the ground, and presses many an attack in vain. Entellus rose
and struck clean out with his right downwards; his quick opponent saw
the descending blow before it came, [445-481]and slid his body rapidly
out of its way. Entellus hurled his strength into the air, and all his
heavy mass, overreaching, fell heavily to the earth; as sometime on
Erymanthus or mighty Ida a hollow pine falls torn out by the roots.
Teucrians and men of Sicily rise eagerly; a cry goes up, and Acestes
himself runs forward, and pityingly lifts his friend and birthmate from
the ground. But the hero, not dulled nor dismayed by his mishap, returns
the keener to battle, and grows violent in wrath, while shame and
resolved valour kindle his strength. All afire, he hunts Dares headlong
over the lists, and redoubles his blows now with right hand, now with
left; no breath nor pause; heavy as hailstones rattle on the roof from a
storm-cloud, so thickly shower the blows from both his hands as he
buffets Dares to and fro. Then lord Aeneas allowed not wrath to swell
higher or Entellus to rage out his bitterness, but stopped the fight and
rescued the exhausted Dares, saying thus in soothing words: 'Unhappy!
what height of madness hath seized thy mind? Knowest thou not the
strength is another's and the gods are changed?
off thy gifts. ' Therewith all the Dardanians murmured assent, and bade
yield him the promised prize. At this aged Acestes spoke sharply to
Entellus, as he sate next him on the green cushion of grass: 'Entellus,
bravest of heroes once of old in vain, wilt thou thus idly let a gift so
great be borne away uncontested? Where now prithee is divine Eryx, thy
master of fruitless fame? where thy renown over all Sicily, and those
spoils hanging in thine house? ' Thereat he: 'Desire of glory is not
gone, nor ambition checked by fear; but torpid age dulls my chilly
blood, and my strength of limb is numb and outworn. If I had what once
was mine, if I had now that prime of years, yonder braggart's boast and
confidence, it had taken no prize of goodly bullock to allure me; nor
heed I these gifts. ' So he spoke, and on that flung down a pair of
gloves of giant weight, with whose hard hide bound about his wrists
valiant Eryx was wont to come to battle. They stood amazed; so stiff and
grim lay the vast sevenfold oxhide sewed in with lead and iron. Dares
most of all shrinks far back in horror, and the noble son of Anchises
turns round this way and that their vast weight and voluminous folds.
Then the old man spoke thus in deep accents: 'How, had they seen the
gloves [411-444]that were Hercules' own armour, and the fatal fight on
this very beach? These arms thy brother Eryx once wore; thou seest them
yet stained with blood and spattered brains. In them he stood to face
great Alcides; to them was I used while fuller blood supplied me
strength, and envious old age had not yet strewn her snows on either
temple. But if Dares of Troy will have none of these our arms, and good
Aeneas is resolved on it, and my patron Acestes approves, let us make
the battle even.
See, I give up the gauntlets of Eryx; dismiss thy
fears; and do thou put off thy Trojan gloves. ' So spoke he, and throwing
back the fold of his raiment from his shoulders, he bares the massive
joints and limbs, the great bones and muscles, and stands up huge in the
middle of the ground. Then Anchises' lordly seed brought out equal
gloves and bound the hands of both in matched arms. Straightway each
took his stand on tiptoe, and undauntedly raised his arms high in air.
They lift their heads right back and away out of reach of blows, and
make hand play through hand, inviting attack; the one nimbler of foot
and confident in his youth, the other mighty in mass of limb, but his
knees totter tremulous and slow, and sick panting shakes his vast frame.
Many a mutual blow they deliver in vain, many an one they redouble on
chest and side, sounding hollow and loud: hands play fast about ear and
temple, and jawbones clash under the hard strokes. Old Entellus stands
immoveable and astrain, only parrying hits with body and watchful eye.
The other, as one who casts mounts against some high city or blockades a
hill-fort in arms, tries this and that entrance, and ranges cunningly
over all the ground, and presses many an attack in vain. Entellus rose
and struck clean out with his right downwards; his quick opponent saw
the descending blow before it came, [445-481]and slid his body rapidly
out of its way. Entellus hurled his strength into the air, and all his
heavy mass, overreaching, fell heavily to the earth; as sometime on
Erymanthus or mighty Ida a hollow pine falls torn out by the roots.
Teucrians and men of Sicily rise eagerly; a cry goes up, and Acestes
himself runs forward, and pityingly lifts his friend and birthmate from
the ground. But the hero, not dulled nor dismayed by his mishap, returns
the keener to battle, and grows violent in wrath, while shame and
resolved valour kindle his strength. All afire, he hunts Dares headlong
over the lists, and redoubles his blows now with right hand, now with
left; no breath nor pause; heavy as hailstones rattle on the roof from a
storm-cloud, so thickly shower the blows from both his hands as he
buffets Dares to and fro. Then lord Aeneas allowed not wrath to swell
higher or Entellus to rage out his bitterness, but stopped the fight and
rescued the exhausted Dares, saying thus in soothing words: 'Unhappy!
what height of madness hath seized thy mind? Knowest thou not the
strength is another's and the gods are changed?
