So slowly rows the Centaur, yet anon They set the sails, and loose the spreading sheet, And crowd full canvas; and the port is won.
Glad is AEneas, and he joys to greet His friends brought safely and his ships complete.
So to Sergestus, for his portion due, He gives fair Pholoe, a slave of Crete, Twins at her breast, two sons of loveliest hue, And well Minerva's works, the weaving art, she knew.
XXXIX.

This contest o'er, the good AEneas sought A grassy plain, with waving forests crowned And sloping hills--fit theatre for sport, Where in the middle of the vale was found A circus.

Hither comes he, ringed around With thousands, here, amidst them, throned on high In rustic state, he seats him on a mound, And all who in the footrace list to vie, With proffered gifts invites, and tempts their souls to try.
XL.

In crowds the Teucrians and Sicanians come, First, Nisus and Euryalus.

None so fair As young Euryalus, in youthful bloom And beauty; none with Nisus could compare In pure affection for a youth so rare.
Here stood Diores, famous for his speed, A prince of Priam's lineage; Salius there, And Patron, this of Acarnanian seed, That of Arcadian birth and Tegeaean breed.
XLI.