Fronting the surf-beat shore, far out at searises a rock, which under swollen waveslies buffeted unseen, when wintry stormsmantle the stars; but when the deep is calm,lifts silently above the sleeping waveits level field,—a place where haunt and playflocks of the sea-birds, Iovers of the sun.Here was the goal; and here Aeneas seta green-leaved flex-tree, to be a markfor every captain's eye, from whence to veerthe courses of their ships in sweeping curvesand speed them home. Now places in the lineare given by lot. Upon the lofty sternsthe captains ride, in beautiful arrayof Tyriao purple and far-flaming gold;the crews are poplar-crowned, the shoulders barerubbed well with glittering oil; their straining armsmake long reach to the oar, as on the thwartsthey sit attentive, listening for the callof the loud trumpet; while with pride and feartheir hot hearts throb, impassioned for renown.Soon pealed the signal clear; from all the lineinstant the galleys bounded, and the airrang to the rowers, shouting, while their armspulled every inch and flung the waves in foam;deep cut the rival strokes; the surface fairyawned wide beneath their blades and cleaving keels.Not swifter scour the chariots o'er the plain,sped headlong from the line behind their teamsof mated coursers, while each driver shakesloose, rippling reins above his plunging pairs,and o'er the lash leans far. With loud applausevociferous and many an urgent cheerthe woodlands rang, and all the concave shoresback from the mountains took the Trojan cryin answering song. Forth-flying from his peers,while all the crowd acclaims, sped Gyas' keelalong the outmost wave. Cloanthus nextpushed hard upon, with stronger stroke of oarsbut heavier ship. At equal pace behindthe Pristis and the Centaur fiercely strivefor the third place. Now Pristis seems to lead,now mightier Centaur past her flies, then bothride on together, prow with prow, and cleavelong lines of foaming furrow with swift keels.Soon near the rock they drew, and either shipwas making goal,—when Gyas, in the lead, and winner of the half-course, Ioudly hailedmenoetes, the ship's pilot: “Why so farto starboard, we? Keep her head round this way!Hug shore! Let every oar-blade almost grazethat reef to larboard! Let the others takethe deep-sea course outside!” But while he spoke,Menoetes, dreading unknown rocks below,veered off to open sea. “Why steer so wide?Round to the rock, Menoetes!” Gyas roared, —again in vain, for looking back he sawcloanthus hard astern, and ever nearer,who, in a trice, betwixt the booming reefand Gyas' galley, lightly forward thrustthe beak of Scylla to the inside course,and, quickly taking lead, flew past the goalto the smooth seas beyond. Then wrathful griefflamed in the warrior's heart, nor was his cheekunwet with tears; and, reckless utterlyof his own honor and his comrades, lives,he hurled poor, slack Menoetes from the poopheadlong upon the waters, while himself,pilot and master both, the helm assuming,urged on his crew, and landward took his way.But now, with heavy limbs that hardly wonhis rescue from the deep, engulfing wave,up the rude rock graybeard Menoetes climbedwith garment dripping wet, and there dropped downupon the cliff's dry top. With laughter loudthe Trojan crews had watched him plunging, swimming,and now to see his drink of bitter brinespewed on the ground, the sailors laughed again.
But Mnestheus and Sergestus, coming last,have joyful hope enkindled in each heartto pass the laggard Gyas. In the leadSergestus' ship shoots forth; and to the rockruns boldly nigh; but not his whole long keelmay pass his rival; the projecting beakis followed fast by Pristis' emulous prow.Then, striding straight amidships through his crew,thus Mnestheus urged them on: “O Hector's friends!Whom in the dying hours of Troy I chosefor followers! Now stand ye to your best!Put forth the thews of valor that ye showedin the Gaetulian Syrtes, or that seaIonian, or where the waves race bythe Malean promontory! Mnestheus nowhopes not to be the first, nor do I strivefor victory. O Father Neptune, givethat garland where thou wilt! But O, the shameif we are last! Endure it not, my men!The infamy refuse!” So, bending low,they enter the home-stretch. Beneath their strokethe brass-decked galley throbs, and under herthe sea-floor drops away. On, on they fly!Parched are the panting lips, and sweat in streamspours down their giant sides; but lucky chancebrought the proud heroes what their honor craved.For while Sergestus furiously drovehis ship's beak toward the rock, and kept insidethe scanty passage, by his evil starhe grounded on the jutting reef; the cliffsrang with the blow, and his entangled oarsgrated along the jagged granite, whilethe prow hung wrecked and helpless. With loud cryupsprang the sailors, while the ship stood still,and pushed off with long poles and pointed iron,or snatched the smashed oars from the whirling tide.Mnestheus exults; and, roused to keener strifeby happy fortune, with a quicker strokeof each bright rank of oars, and with the breezehis prayer implored, skims o'er the obedient waveand sweeps the level main. Not otherwisea startled dove, emerging o'er the fieldsfrom secret cavern in the crannied hillwhere her safe house and pretty nestlings lie,soars from her nest, with whirring wings—but soonthrough the still sky she takes her path of airon pinions motionless. So Pristis spedwith Mnestheus, cleaving her last stretch of sea,by her own impulse wafted. She outstrippedSergestus first; for he upon the reeffought with the breakers, desperately shoutingfor help, for help in vain, with broken oarscontriving to move on. Then Mnestheus ranpast Gyas, in Chimaera's ponderous hulk,of pilot now bereft; at last remainsCloanthus his sole peer, whom he pursueswith a supreme endeavor. From the shoreburst echoing cheers that spur him to the chase,and wild applause makes all the welkin ring.The leaders now with eager souls would scornto Iose their glory, and faint-hearted failto grasp a prize half-won, but fain would buyhonor with life itself; the followers tooare flushed with proud success, and feel them strongbecause their strength is proven. Both ships nowwith indistinguishable prows had spedto share one prize,—but with uplifted handsspread o'er the sea, Cloanthus, suppliant,called on the gods to bless his votive prayer:“Ye gods who rule the waves, whose waters bemy pathway now; for you on yonder stranda white bull at the altar shall be slainin grateful tribute for a granted vow;and o'er the salt waves I will scatter farthe entrails, and outpour the flowing wine.”He spoke; and from the caverns under seaPhorcus and virgin Panopea heard,and all the sea-nymphs' choir; while with strong handthe kindly God of Havens rose and thrustthe gliding ship along, that swifter flewthan south wind, or an arrow from the string,and soon made land in haven safe and sure.