Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 2) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/180

And but a Man in shew: Go, card and spin;
And leave the Business of the War to Men.
While thus the Boaster exercis'd his Pride,
The fatal Spear of Cæneus reach'd his Side:
Just in the mixture of the Kinds it ran;
Betwixt the neather 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 harden'd 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 Fauchion try'd, in closer Fight;
But the keen Fauchion had no Pow'r to bite.
He thrust; the blunted Point return'd again:
Since downright Blows, he cry'd, and Thrusts are vain,
I'll prove his Side; in strong Embraces held
He prov'd his Side; his Side the Sword repell'd:
His hollow Belly eccho'd to the Stroke,$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
Untouch'd his Body, as a solid Rock;
Aim'd at his Neck at last, the Blade in Shivers broke.
Th' Impassive Knight stood Idle, to deride$\scriptstyle {\left.{\begin{matrix}\ \\\\\ \ \end{matrix}}\right\}\,}$
His Rage, and offer'd oft his naked Side;
At length, now Monster, in thy turn, he cry'd,
Try thou the Strength of Cæneus: At the Word
He thrust; and in his Shoulder plung'd the Sword.
Then writh'd his Hand; and as he drove it down,
Deep in his Breast, made many Wounds in one.
The Centaurs saw, inrag'd, th' unhop'd Success;
And rushing on, in Crowds, together press;
At him, and him alone, their Darts they threw:
Repuls'd they from his fated Body flew.
Amaz'd they stood; till Monichus began,
O 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,