Then Gyareus, in act To climb the friendly deck, by javelin pierced, Still as he hung, by the retaining steel Fast to the side was nailed.
Twin brethren stand A fruitful mother's pride; with different fates, But ne'er distinguished till death's savage hand Struck once, and ended error: he that lived, Cause of fresh anguish to their sorrowing souls, Called ever to the weeping parents back The image of the lost: who, as the oars Grecian and Roman mixed their teeth oblique, Grasped with his dexter hand the Roman ship; When fell a blow that shore his arm away.
So died, upon the side it held, the hand, Nor loosed its grasp in death.

Yet with the wound His noble courage rose, and maimed he dared Renew the fray, and stretched across the sea To grasp the lost -- in vain! another blow Lopped arm and hand alike.

Nor shield nor sword Henceforth are his.

Yet even now he seeks No sheltering hold, but with his chest advanced Before his brother armed, he claims the fight, And holding in his breast the darts which else Had slain his comrades, pierced with countless spears, He fails in death well earned; yet ere his end Collects his parting life, and all his strength Strains to the utmost and with failing limbs Leaps on the foeman's deck; by weight alone Injurious; for streaming down with gore And piled on high with corpses, while her sides Sounded to ceaseless blows, the fated ship Let in the greedy brine until her ways Were level with the waters -- then she plunged In whirling eddies downwards -- and the main First parted, then closed in upon its prey.
Full many wondrous deaths, with fates diverse, Upon the sea in that day's fight befell.
Caught by a grappling-hook that missed the side, Had Lysidas been whelmed in middle deep; But by his feet his comrades dragged him back, And rent in twain he hung; nor slowly flowed As from a wound the blood; but all his veins (30) Were torn asunder and the stream of life Gushed o'er his limbs till lost amid the deep.
From no man dying has the vital breath Rushed by so wide a path; the lower trunk Succumbed to death, but with the lungs and heart Long strove the fates, and hardly won the whole.
While, bent upon the fight, an eager crew Were gathered to the margin of their deck (Leaving the upper side as bare of foes), Their ship was overset.

Beneath the keel Which floated upwards, prisoned in the sea, And powerless by spread of arms to float The main, they perished.