The Boxing Match

A young bull, with gilded horns, and a fine sword and helmet, were next displayed, as prizes for the boxing match. This was a terrible and murderous struggle, fraught with peril to life and limb; for the boxers fought with their hands encased in gloves of hard leather, often weighted with iron and lead, called the _cæstus_. One champion alone appeared ready to bear his part in this heroic sport; he was a Trojan named Dares, and the son of the famous boxer Amycus, who had been killed by Pollux during the voyage of the Argonauts. The fame of Dares was well known among his comrades, and no one seemed inclined to dispute his supremacy in the ring. Accordingly Dares, who had been showing off his muscle before the crowd, and dealing tremendous buffets to an imaginary antagonist, strutted up to Æneas, and, laying his hand on the bull, claimed him as his lawful prize. But he was not to be allowed to triumph so easily. Among the spectators there stood a man already advanced in years, but of gigantic stature and massive build. Acestes, who was standing near him, now addressed him in terms of reproach: “Entellus, wilt thou suffer this braggart to carry off the prize without a blow? Hast thou forgotten thy divine master, Eryx? Or fearest thou the face of this blustering bully?” “I fear no man,” answered Entellus; “but I am old, and my joints are stiff, while that fellow is young and lusty. The greedy knave, he cares for nothing but the prize! What do you think of these?” he cried, stepping into the ring, and flinging down a ponderous pair of _cæstus_ of tough bull’s hide, stiffened with lead and iron. Dares recoiled at the sight of these frightful weapons, and refused to face an opponent armed in such fashion. “What would you have thought if you had seen the gauntlets with which Hercules fought?” asked Entellus, turning to Æneas, who had picked up the formidable gloves, and was examining them with amazement. “These which you see were worn by your brother Eryx when he stood up against Hercules. But I will take no advantage; lend me another pair, and we will fight with equal weapons.” The change was made, Entellus stripped, and took up his station in the middle of the arena confronting Dares, who, powerful as he was, looked a mere stripling as he faced the athletic veteran. Then the boxers raised themselves to their full height, with heads drawn back, and the battle began. Dares was far superior in speed and agility, while Entellus, who could have crushed him in his arms, was slow on his feet, and short of wind. There was a rapid interchange of blows, and the air rang with the clatter of the hard gauntlets, as Dares manœuvred nimbly round his huge antagonist, who stood rooted like an oak in his place, parrying the blows. Suddenly Entellus saw an opening, and put in a heavy stroke, with all the force of his ponderous right arm. Dares stepped lightly aside, and Entellus, carried forward by the impetus of his own blow, lost his balance, and came down with a sounding thud on the turf. A shout of mingled triumph and dismay greeted the fall of the Sicilian champion, and his friends rushed forward to help him to his feet. But, neither dulled nor dismayed by his fall, that mighty man returns keener to the battle, and kindles strength with rage. All the vigor of his youth comes back to him, and he chases Dares headlong round and round the ring, now with his right hand raining blows, now with his giant left. No rest, no pause; like hailstones rattling on the roof, so shower the strokes of those iron hands on the head of the hapless Dares. At last Æneas interposed, and stopped the unequal combat. Dares was borne, shattered and fainting, from the ring, and Entellus, crowned with the victor’s wreath, took possession of the bull. “Now mark,” he said, “Æneas, and learn, ye Trojans, what force was in this arm in the days of my prime, and what death Dares has escaped.” Saying this, he planted himself firmly in front of the bull, and slowly drawing back his gauntleted fist poised it like a club, and dashed it with all his force between the horns of the beast. The skull was splintered as if by a sledge-hammer, and prostrate, lifeless, quivering, on earth lay the bull. “That was the blow which I designed for Dares,” said the giant, “but the bull is a worthier sacrifice to the shade of my master Eryx. I have fought my last round, and now I will hang up my gauntlets in his shrine.”