And again that wonderful duel between Patroclus and the divine Sarpedon:
“Down jumped he from his chariot, down leaped his foe as light,
And as, on some far-looking rock, a cast of vultures fight,
—Fly on each other, strike and truss—part, meet, and then stick by,
Tug, both with crooked beaks and seres, cry, fight, and fight and cry;
So fiercely fought these angry kings, and showed as bitter galls.”
What a description this old Chapman would have made of a tug at foot-ball!
Another fragment I take from the Twenty-first Book, where the River God roars and rages in the waters of Scamander against Achilles:
——“Then swell’d his waves, then rag’d, then boil’d again