Than from a daughter of the sea to spring; Thy sire is mortal, mine is ocean’s king. Secure of death, I should contemn thy dart, Though naked, and impassable depart.” He said, and threw; the trembling weapon pass’d Through nine bull hides, each under other placed, On his broad shield, and stuck within the last. Achilles wrench’d it out, and sent again The hostile gift: the hostile gift was vain. He tried a third, a tough, well-chosen spear, The inviolable body stood sincere, Though Cycnus then did no defence provide, But scornful offer’d his unshielded side.

Not otherwise the impatient hero fared, Than as a bull encompass’d with a guard, Amid the circus roars, provoked from far By sight of scarlet and a sanguine war: They quit their ground; his bended horns elude; In vain pursuing, and in vain pursued.