Across the track he crawls, Then, scrambling up from out the quagmire, flies At Salius.

In the dust proud Salius sprawls.
Forth darts Euryalus, 'mid cheers and cries, Hailed, through his helping friend, the winner of the prize.
XLVI.

The second prize to Helymus, the third Falls thus to brave Diores .-- Now the heat Was o'er, when Salius with his clamouring stirred Troy's seated elders, furious with defeat, And claimed the prize, as wrested by a cheat.
Tears aid Euryalus, and favour pleads His worth, more winsome in a form so sweet, And loudly, too, Diores intercedes.
Lost were his own last prize, if Salius' claim succeeds.
XLVII.

"Boys," said the good AEneas, "the award Is fixt, and no man shall the palm withhold.
Yet be it mine to cheer a friend ill-starred." He spake, and Salius with a gift consoled, A Moorish lion's hide, with claws of gold And shaggy hair.

Then Nisus with a frown: "If gifts so great a vanquished man may hold, If falls win pity, and defeat renown, What prize shall Nisus gain, whose merit earned the crown?
XLVIII.