But now as Eurymedon rushed him, Melisseus landed one high up on the chest ; he countered with a lead at the face but missed — hit nothing but air. Shaking with excitement, he skipt round the man past his chest with a side-step and brought home his right on the exposed breast under the nipple. Then they clinched, one against the other, shifting a bit their feet carefully in short steps, hands making play against hands : as the blows fell in quick succession the straps wreathed about their fingers made a terrible noise. Cheeks were torn, drops of blood stained the handstraps, their jaws resounded under the blows, the round cheeks swelled and spread on the puffy face, the eyes of both sunk in hollows.
Eurymedon was badly shaken by Melisseus and his artful dodging. He had to stand with the sun shining intolerably in his face and blinding his eyes ; Melisseus rushed in, dancing about with quickened twists and turns, and popped in a sudden one on the jaw beneath the ear ; and Eurymedon being distressed fell on his back and rolled in the dust helpless, fainting, like a drunken man. He inclined his head to one side and spat out a foam of thickish blood. His brother Alcon slung him over his back and gloomily carried him out of the ring, stunned by the blow and unconscious, then quickly lifted the great Indian shield.
Next Dionysos called for a couple of competitors in wrestling, and announced the contest for this prize. He offered a tripod of twenty measures as prize for the winner, and brought out a cauldron with flower-ornaments reserved for the defeated man. Then he rose, and called out with announcing voice,
“This way, friends, for the next fine contest !
He spoke, and at the summons of crownloving Dionysos, Aristaios first rose, then second Aiacos, one well schooled in the lore of strongarmed wrestling. The athletes came forward naked but for the body-belts that hid their unseen loins. They both began by grasping each the other’s wrists, and wreathed this way and that way, and pulled each other in turn over the surface of the widespread dust, holding the arms in a close grip of the fingers. Between the two men it was like ebb and flow, man drawing man with evenly balanced pulls, dragging and dragged ; for they hugged each other with both arms and bent the neck, and pressed head to head on the middle of the forehead, pushing steadily downwards. Sweat ran from their rubbed foreheads to show the hard struggle ; the backs of both were bent by the pull of the arms, and pressed hard by the two pairs of twined hands. Many a weal ran up of itself and made a purple pattern with the hot blood, until the fellows’ bodies were marked with it.
“So they showed each against the other all the various tricks of the wrestler’s art. Then first Aristaios got his arms round his adversary and heaved him bodily from the ground. But Aiacos the crafty did not forget his cunning skill ; with insinuating leg he gave a kick behind the left knee of Aristaios, and rolled him over bodily, helpless upon his back on the ground, for all the world like a falling cliff. The people round about all gazed with astonished eyes at the son of Phoibos, so grand, so proud, so famous, taking a fall ! Next Aiacos without an effort lifted the gigantic son of Cyrene high above the ground, to be an example of valour for his future sons, Peleus the unwearying and Telamon the mighty: he held the man in his arms, bending neither back nor upright neck, carrying the man with both arms by the middle, so that they were like a couple of cross-rafters which some carpenter has made to calm the stormy compulsion of the winds. Aiacos threw down the man at full length in the dust, and got on his adversary’s back as he lay, thrust both legs along under his belly and bent them in a close clasp just below the knees, pressing foot to foot, and encircling the ankles ; quickly he stretched himself over his adversary’s back and wound his two hands over each other round the neck like a necklace, interlacing his fingers, and so made his arms a fetter for the neck. Sweat poured in streams and soaked the dust, but he wiped away the running drops with dry sand, that his adversary might not slip out of his encircling grip by the streams of hot moisture which he sent out of his squeezed neck.
As he lay in this tight embrace, the heralds came running up at full speed, men chosen to be overseers of the games, that the victor might not kill him with those strangling arms. For there was then no such law as in later days their successors invented, for the case when a man overwhelmed by the suffocating pain of a noose round the neck testifies the victory of his adversary with significant silence, by tapping the victor with submissive hand. Then the Myrmidons laid hands on the twenty-measure tripod as the servants of the victorious prince ; and Actaion quickly lifted the cauldron, his father’s second prize, and carried it away with sorrowful hand.
Then Bacchos set the contest of the footrace. For the first man he offered as treasures of victory a silver mixing-bowl and a woman captive of the spear ; for the second he offered a Thessalian horse with dappled neck ; for the last, a sharp sword with wellwrought sling-strap. He rose and made the announcement, calling for quickfoot runners :
Let these be the prizes for men who can run !
At these words, came Dictaian Ocythoos, wagging his experienced knees. Next ran up fleet Erechtheus, a man full of craft, and dear to Victorious Pallas ; after him fleetfoot Priasos, one from the arable land of Cybele. Off they went from scratch. Ocythoos led, light as the stormwind on his feet, going straight ahead and keeping his lead. Close behind came Erechtheus second at full speed, with his breath beating on the back of Ocythoos close by, and warming his head with it : as near as the rod lies between the web and the breast of a girl who loves the shuttle, when she holds it at measured distance with skilful hand working at the loom, so much was he behind Ocythoos, and he trod in his footmarks on the ground before the dust could settle in them. Then it would have been a dead heat ; but Ocythoos saw this rival running pace for pace with himself, so he made a spurt and ran past the fellow by a longer distance, as much as a man’s pace. Then Erechtheus anxious for victory addressed a prayer to Boreas and cried out :
“Goodson, help your own Erechtheus and your own bride, if you still cherish a sweet passion for my girl, your sweetheart ! Lend me the speed of your swift wings for one hour, that I may pass kneequick Ocythoos now in front !
Boreas heard his supplicating voice, and made him swifter than the rapid gale. All three were moving their legs like the wind, but the balance was not equal for all : as far as Erechtheus was behind Ocythoos running before him with swift foot, so far behind, near stormswift Erechtheus, was Priasos the proud son of Phrygia. So they ran on, until just as the end of the race was coming for their bounding feet, kneeswift Ocythoos slipt in the dirt, where was an infinite heap of dung from those cattle which had been slaughtered by the Mygdonian knife of Dionysos beside the tomb. But he sprang backwards with a quick- whirling spring of his foot and jumped back again, then off he went — and he would have quickly passed the travelling step of his rival running in front if there had been even a little space to run : whereby he would either have made a dead heat by a spurt or he would have passed the Athenian.
Swift Erechtheus then lifted the Sidonian mixing-bowl, that treasure adorned with curious workmanship on the surface ; Ocythoos took off the Thessalian horse ; Priasos quietly walked in third, and received the sword with silver sling-strap. The company of Satyrs laughed in mocking spirit when they saw the Corybant smeared all over with dirt, and spitting out the dung that filled his throat.