"Ay, who had won, had Chance not interfered, And baffled me, like Salius?
Look," he said, And pointed to his limbs and forehead, smeared With ordure.

Smiling, the good Sire surveyed His piteous plight and raiment disarrayed; Then forth he bade a glittering shield be borne, Which Didymaon's workmanship had made, From Neptune's temple by the Danaans torn.
This prize he gives the youth, his prowess to adorn.
XLIX.

The race was ended, and the gifts assigned, When thus AEneas, as they thronged about, Addressed the crowd: "Now, whosoe'er hath mind His nerve to venture, or whose heart is stout, Step forth, and don the gauntlets and strike out." He spake, and straightway, while the lists they clear, Sets forth the gifts, for him who wins the bout, Gilt-horned and garlanded, a comely steer, A sword and glittering helm, the loser's soul to cheer.
L.

At once, amid loud murmurs, to his feet Upsprang great Dares, who in olden day Alone the haughty Paris dared to meet.
He, by the tomb where mightiest Hector lay, Huge Butes fought, who, glorying in the bay, And boasting Amycus' Bebrycian strain, Called for his match.

But Dares heard him, yea, And smote him.