Now brave Perithous, bold Ixion's son, The love of fair Hippodame had won. The cloud-begotten race, half men, half beast, Invited, came to grace the nuptial feast: In a cool cave's recess the treat was made, Whose entrance, trees with spreading boughs o'er-shade They sate: and summon'd by the bridegroom, came, To mix with those, the Lapythaean name: Nor wanted I: the roofs with joy resound: And Hymen, Io Hymen, rung around. Rais'd altars shone with holy fires; the bride, Lovely her self (and lovely by her side A bevy of bright nymphs, with sober grace), Came glitt'ring like a star, and took her place. Her heav'nly form beheld, all wish'd her joy; And little wanted; but in vain, their wishes all employ. For one, most brutal, of the brutal brood, Or whether wine, or beauty fir'd his blood, Or both at once, beheld with lustful eyes The bride; at once resolv'd to make his prize. Down went the board; and fastning on her hair, He seiz'd with sudden force the frighted fair. 'Twas Eurytus began: his bestial kind His crime pursu'd; and each as pleas'd his mind, Or her, whom chance presented, took: the feast An image of a taken town express'd. The cave resounds with female shrieks; we rise, Mad with revenge to make a swift reprise: And Theseus first, What phrenzy has possess'd, O Eurytus, he cry'd, thy brutal breast, To wrong Perithous, and not him alone, But while I live, two friends conjoyn'd in one? To justifie his threat, he thrusts aside The crowd of centaurs; and redeems the bride: The monster nought reply'd: for words were vain, And deeds cou'd only deeds unjust maintain; But answers with his hand, and forward press'd, With blows redoubled, on his face, and breast. An ample goblet stood, of antick mold, And rough with figures of the rising gold; The hero snatch'd it up, and toss'd in air Full at the front of the foul ravisher. He falls; and falling vomits forth a flood Of wine, and foam, and brains, and mingled blood. Half roaring, and half neighing through the hall, Arms, arms, the double-form'd with fury call; To wreak their brother's death: a medley-flight Of bowls, and jars, at first supply the fight, Once instruments of feasts; but now of Fate; Wine animates their rage, and arms their hate. Bold Amycus, from the robb'd vestry brings The chalices of Heav'n; and holy things Of precious weight: a sconce that hung on high, With tapers fill'd, to light the sacristy, Torn from the cord, with his unhallow'd hand He threw amid the Lapythaean band. On Celadon the ruin fell; and left His face of feature, and of form bereft: So, when some brawny sacrificer knocks, Before an altar led, an offer'd ox, His eyes-balls rooted out, are thrown to ground; His nose, dismantled, in his mouth is found; His jaws, cheeks, front, one undistinguish'd wound. This, Belates, th' avenger, cou'd not brook; But, by the foot, a maple board he took; And hurl'd at Amycus; his chin it bent Against his chest, and down the centaur sent: Whom sputtring bloody teeth, the second blow Of his drawn sword, dispatch'd to shades below. Grineus was near; and cast a furious look On the side-altar, cens'd with sacred smoke, And bright with flaming fires; The Gods, he cry'd, Have with their holy trade our hands supply'd: Why use we not their gifts? Then from the floor An altar stone he heav'd, with all the load it bore: Altar, and altar's freight together slew, Where thickest throng'd the Lapythaean crew: And, at once, Broteas and Oryus flew. Oryus' mother, Mycale, was known Down from her sphere to draw the lab'ring moon. Exadius cry'd, Unpunish'd shall not go This fact, if arms are found against the foe. He look'd about, where on a pine were spread The votive horns of a stag's branching head: At Grineus these he throws; so just they fly, That the sharp antlers stuck in either eye: Breathless, and blind he fell; with blood besmear'd; His eye-balls beaten out, hung dangling on his beard. Fierce Rhoetus, from the hearth a burning brand Selects, and whirling waves; 'till, from his hand The fire took flame; then dash'd it from the right, On fair Charaxus' temples, near the sight: The whistling pest came on, and pierc'd the bone, And caught the yellow hair, that shrivel'd while it shone. Caught, like dry stubble fir'd; or like seerwood; Yet from the wound ensu'd no purple flood; But look'd a bubbling mass of frying blood. His blazing locks sent forth a crackling sound; And hiss'd, like red hot ir'n within the smithy drown'd. The wounded warrior shook his flaming hair, Then (what a team of horse could hardly rear) He heaves the threshold stone, but could not throw; The weight itself forbad the threaten'd blow; Which dropping from his lifted arms, came down Full on Cometes' head; and crush'd his crown. Nor Rhoetus then retain'd his joy; but said, So by their fellows may our foes be sped; Then, with redoubled strokes he plies his head: The burning lever not deludes his pains: But drives the batter'd skull within the brains. Thus flush'd, the conqueror, with force renew'd, Evagrus, Dryas, Corythus, pursu'd: First, Corythus, with downy cheeks, he slew; Whose fall, when fierce Evagrus had in view, He cry'd, What palm is from a beardless prey? Rhoetus prevents what more he had to say; And drove within his mouth the fi'ry death, Which enter'd hissing in, and choak'd his breath. At Dryas next he flew: but weary chance, No longer wou'd the same success advance. For while he whirl'd in fiery circles round The brand, a sharpen'd stake strong Dryas found; And in the shoulder's joint inflicts the wound. The weapon stuck; which, roaring out with pain, He drew; nor longer durst the fight maintain, But turn'd his back, for fear; and fled amain. With him fled Orneus, with like dread possess'd, Thaumas, and Medon wounded in the breast; And Mermeros, in the late race renown'd, Now limping ran, and tardy with his wound. Pholus, and Melaneus from fight withdrew, And Abas maim'd, who boars encountring slew: And Augur Asbolos, whose art in vain, From fight dissuaded the four-footed train, Now beat the hoof with Nessus on the plain; But to his fellow cry'd, Be safely slow, Thy death deferr'd is due to great Alcides' bow. Mean-time strong Dryas urg'd his chance so well, That Lycidas, Areos, Imbreus fell; All, one by one, and fighting face to face: Crenaeus fled, to fall with more disgrace: For, fearful, while he look'd behind, he bore, Betwixt his nose, and front, the blow before. Amid the noise, and tumult of the fray, Snoring, and drunk with wine, Aphidas lay. Ev'n then the bowl within his hand he kept, And on a bear's rough hide securely slept. Him Phorbas with his flying dart transfix'd; Take thy next draught, with Stygian waters mix'd, And sleep thy fill, th' insulting victor cry'd; Surpriz'd with death unfelt, the centaur dy'd; The ruddy vomit, as he breath'd his soul Repass'd his throat, and fill'd his empty bowl. I saw Petraeus' arms employ'd around A well-grown oak, to root it from the ground. This way, and that, he wrench'd the fibrous bands; The trunk was like a sappling, in his hands, And still obey'd the bent: while thus he stood, Perithous' dart drove on; and nail'd him to the wood; Lycus, and Chromis fell, by him oppress'd: Helops, and Dictis added to the rest A nobler palm: Helops, through either ear Transfix'd, receiv'd the penetrating spear. This Dictis saw; and, seiz'd with sudden fright, Leapt headlong from the hill of steepy height; And crush'd an ash beneath, that cou'd not bear his weight. The shatter'd tree receives his fall; and strikes, Within his full-blown paunch, the sharpen'd spikes. Strong Aphareus had heav'd a mighty stone, The fragment of a rock; and wou'd have thrown; But Theseus, with a club of harden'd oak, The cubit-bone of the bold centaur broke; And left him maim'd; nor seconded the stroke. Then leapt on tall Bianor's back (who bore No mortal burden but his own, before); Press'd with his knees his sides; the double man, His speed with spurs increas'd, unwilling ran. One hand the hero fastn'd on his locks; His other ply'd him with repeated strokes. The club rung round his ears, and batter'd brows; He falls; and lashing up his heels, his rider throws. The same Herculean arms, Nedymnus wound; And lay by him Lycotas on the ground, And Hippasus, whose beard his breast invades; And Ripheus, haunter of the woodland shades: And Thereus, us'd with mountain-bears to strive, And from their dens to draw th' indignant beasts alive. Demoleon cou'd not bear this hateful sight, Or the long fortune of th' Athenian knight: But pull'd with all his force, to disengage From Earth a pine, the product of an age: The root stuck fast: the broken trunk he sent At Theseus; Theseus frustrates his intent, And leaps aside; by Pallas warn'd, the blow To shun (for so he said; and we believ'd it so). Yet not in vain th' enormous weight was cast; Which Crantor's body sunder'd at the waist: Thy father's 'squire, Achilles, and his care; Whom conquer'd in the Polopeian war, Their king, his present ruin to prevent, A pledge of peace implor'd, to Peleus sent. Thy sire, with grieving eyes, beheld his Fate; And cry'd, Not long, lov'd Crantor, shalt thou wait Thy vow'd revenge. At once he said, and threw His ashen-spear; which quiver'd, as it flew; With all his force, and all his soul apply'd; The sharp point enter'd in the centaur's side: Both hands, to wrench it out, the monster join'd; And wrench'd it out; but left the steel behind; Stuck in his lungs it stood: inrag'd he rears His hoofs, and down to ground thy father bears. Thus trampled under foot, his shield defends His head; his other hand the lance portends. Ev'n while he lay extended on the dust, He sped the centaur, with one single thrust. Two more his lance before transfix'd from far; And two, his sword had slain, in closer war. To these was added Dorylas, who spread A bull's two goring horns around his head. With these he push'd; in blood already dy'd, Him fearless, I approach'd; and thus defy'd: Now, monster, now, by proof it shall appear, Whether thy horns are sharper, or my spear. At this, I threw: for want of other ward, He lifted up his hand, his front to guard. His hand it pass'd; and fix'd it to his brow: Loud shouts of ours attend the lucky blow. Him Peleus finish'd, with a second wound, Which thro' the navel pierc'd: he reel'd around; And dragg'd his dangling bowels on the ground. Trod what he drag'd; and what he trod, he crush'd: And to his mother-Earth, with empty belly, rush'd.