The twenty-first contains Earthshaker’s wrath, and the man-breaking battle of Ambrosia, and the Indian ambush.
Nor did Dryas’ son forget the first combat. He seized the poleaxe, and a second time went in search of the troops of Bassarids in the forest. But heavenly Zeus gave courage and warlike boldness to Ambrosia, and then possessed of a wave of wild madness she raised a stone and hurled it at Lycurgos, knocking off the ponderous helmet from his locks. But he boldly attacked with a larger stone all jagged, and drove at the chest of the soft-eyed nymph. He did not overthrow her however, and he cried out in rage— “Ares, lord of war, father of strong Lycurgos ! Can you see without shame your son attacking a weak unarmed woman, instead of Lyaios? The sea is too strong for my poleaxe, for Dionysos was hidden in the waves; I have had my journey in vain, and I will return to my own city, and leave my task unfinished.”
He spoke, and seizing Ambrosia round the waist he held her fast in his limb-compressing hands ; he wished to throw her into bonds and to drag her to his house like a captive foreigner, to drive off a nymph from the company of Bromios’s nurses, pricking her slave’s back with the doubleheaded poleaxe. But she stood, and he could not drag her away, nor could he smash her skull in a mess of blood. Saffronrobe Ambrosia fled the bold man and prayed to Mother Earth to save her from Lycurgos. And the Earth, mother of all fruits, opened a gulf, and received Ambrosia the nurse of Bromios alive in a loving embrace. The nymph disappeared and changed her shape to a plant—she became a vine-shoot, which of itself coiled its winding cord round the neck of Lycurgos and throttled him with a tight noose, battling now with threatening clusters as once with the thyrsus.
Rheia indignant gave a voice to the plant, that she might show her favour to Dionysos king of gardenvines; so Ambrosia uttered breathing voice and shrilled high and loud :
“Never will I cease to fight with you, plant though I am! Even as one of the world of plants I will wound you! I have no brazen chain, but I will choke you with inextricable leaves! I will attack you although a vine, that people may say—‘Bassarids kill murderers, even when they are part of the world of leaves!’ You have to fear even vegetable warriors, for vines can shoot their enemies, and grapes can stab them! I fought you alive, and dead I will vanquish you. See how the nurses of Dionysos play the heroes! Have you heard of the seafish called holdtheship, how in the sea a little weak creature has often attacked a crew, pulls back their vessels, and with a small gaping mouth holds up a long freightship firm and fast? Here I am, your holdtheship on land! Here are my leaves, with a selfacting fetter not made of steel, for the battle of the valiant vine! Stand, I say, stand and wait for the son of Thyone, when he shall return from the bosom of the sea!”
So cried Ambrosia out of the vine with her grapy voice, whipping Lycurgos with her long foliage ; and the wild man caught in the fresh green bonds, immovable, smothered all round in the galling fetters of leaves which he could not tear, roared defiance against Dionysos. He had no strength to escape ; in vain he shook his throat wound about with the tiny tendrils in strong constraint. His voice could find no ferry through the gullet throttled with wreathing growths. The Bacchant women thronged round him, his neck confined in the middle of the stifling clusters.
Spearmaster Ares caught up his son’s frightful axe; for he feared that the mad Bacchants might strike the body of Lycurgos with that bloody poleaxe; but he did not release Dryas’ son from the leafy bonds, much as he desired to do it—he gave way on hearing the threatening sound of Zeus’s thunder, and at the flash of his father’s lightning.
Polyxo threw herself upon the head of the raving man, and tore out long locks of hair by the roots. She laid a furious hand on the belly of her foe, seized the corselet, wrenched it off with predatory force, burst it in her rage—declare, O warrior Muses ! what a wonder that a woman’s nails should tear apart this gear, made of steel though it was ! —Cleite with hair flowing free had plaited a twining rope of withies, and Gigarto of the vines, with the whip of twigs, scored the body of Lycurgos with red bleeding weals over the torn shoulders. Phleio scratched the sole of his foot with bunches of thorns, maddened dreadfully. Eriphe the companion of Eiraphiotes clutched at the man’s hairy throat, with a mind to throw him back on the ground. Phasyleia the leader of the Bacchanal dance, fought and scratched the enemy’s flank with a sharp spike. Theope Lyaios’s nurse armed herself with a skin-tearing fennel. Bromié, who bore the name of Bromios, also beat the body of Lycurgos ; and with them Cisseis, that grapeloving nymph, flogged the man with ivy.
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