Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/171

So late the conqueror, blithe and bold,
He fails to keep his foot's sure hold,
And falls in prone confusion flung
'Mid victim blood and loathly dung.
E'en then affection claims its part:
Euryalus is in his heart:
Uprising from the sodden clay,
He casts himself in Salius' way,
And Salius tripped and sprawling lay.
Euryalus like lightning flies
'Mid plaudits and assenting cries,
And through his friend attains the prize:
Next Helymus, and next conies in
Diores, thus the third to win.
Salius aloud his wrong proclaims
To all who sit to view the games:
Fills with his shouts the foremost seat,
Claims back the prize, and brands the cheat.
But more Euryalus finds grace:
So well the tears beseem his face,
And worth appears with brighter shine
When lodged within a lovely shrine.
Diores swells the general strain,
Just ranged within the conquering list—
An empty preference, all in vain,
Should Salius have the prize he missed.
Æneas thus: 'Your rights are yours:
None stirs the palm my word assures:
Let me be suffered to extend
Compassion to a hapless friend.'
So speaking, Salius he consoled
With lion's hide, its claws of gold.
Outspoke bold Nisus: 'If defeat
Such vast requital needs must meet,
And falls win friends, what boon of grace
Were large enough for Nisus' case
Whose merit made him first in place?