“Already Caeneus, with his conquering hand,
Had slaughter’d five, the boldest of their band,
Pyrachmus, Helymus, Antimachus,
Bromus the brave, and stronger Stiphelus.
Their names I number’d, and remember well,
No trace remaining, by what wounds they fell.
“Latreus, the bulkiest of the double race,
Whom the spoil’d arms of slain Halesus grace;
In years retaining still his youthful might,
Though his black hairs were interspersed with white,
Between the embattled ranks began to prance,
Proud of his helm, and Macedonian lance,
And rode the ring around, that either host
Might hear him, while he made this empty boast:
‘And from a female shall we suffer shame?
For Caenis still, not Caeneus, is thy name;
And still the native softness of thy kind
Prevails, and leaves the woman in thy mind:
Remember what thou wert; what price was paid
To change thy sex; to make thee not a maid
And but a man in show: go, card and spin,
And leave the business of the war to men.’
“While thus the boaster exercised his pride,
The fatal spear of Caeneus reach’d his side;
Just in the mixture of the kinds it ran,
Between the nether beast and upper man:
The monster, mad with rage, and stung with smart,
His lance directed at the hero’s heart:
It struck; but bounded from his hardened breast,
Like hail from tiles, which the safe house invest:
Nor seem’d the stroke with more effect to come,
Than a small pebble falling on a drum.
He next his falchion tried, in closer fight;
But the keen falchion had no power to bite:
He thrust; the blunted point return’d again;
‘Since downright blows,’ he cried, ‘and thrusts are vain,
I’ll prove his side:’ in strong embraces held,
He proved his side; his side the sword repell’d:
His hollow belly echoed to the stroke,
Untouch’d his body as a solid rock:
Aim’d at his neck, at last the blade in shivers broke.
“The impassive knight stood idle, to deride
His rage, and offer’d oft his naked side:
At length, ‘Now, monster, in thy turn,’ he cried,
‘Try thou the strength of Caeneus:’ at the word
He thrust, and in his shoulder plunged the sword;
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 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 Monichus began:
‘Oh shame, a nation conquer’d 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,)
Master’d 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 shown, his fellow-brutes pursue.
With forest loads the warrior they invade
Othrys and Pelion soon were void of shad
And spreading groves were naked mountains made.
Press’d with the burden, Caeneus 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 Idaean grove:
Doubtful his death: he suffocated seem’d
To most; but otherwise our Nopsus deem’d;
Who said he saw a yellow bird arise
From out the piles, and cleave the liquid skies:
I saw it too, with golden feathers bright,
Nor ere before beheld so strange a sight:
Whom Mopsus viewing, as it soar’d around
Our troop, and heard the pinion’s 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 push’d the foe; and forced to shameful flight;
Part fell, and part escaped by favour of the night.”