At last Lysander's strength gave way.
Immediately a thousand voices burst forth to cheer him on.

He roused himself and made one last superhuman effort to throw his adversary: but it was too late.

Milo had perceived the momentary weakness.

Taking advantage of it, he clasped the youth in a deadly embrace; a full black stream of blood welled from Lysander's beautiful lips, and he sank lifeless to the earth from the wearied arms of the giant.

Democedes, the most celebrated physician of our day, whom you Samians will have known at the court of Polycrates, hastened to the spot, but no skill could now avail the happy Lysander,--he was dead.
"Milo was obliged to forego the victor's wreath"; and the fame of this youth will long continue to sound through the whole of Greece.
[By the laws of the games the wrestler, whose adversary died, had no right to the prize of victory.] I myself would rather be the dead Lysander, son of Aristomachus, than the living Kallias growing old in inaction away from his country.
Greece, represented by her best and bravest, carried the youth to his grave, and his statue is to be placed in the Altis by those of Milo of Crotona and Praxidamas of AEgina".