not the love of praise, not ambition, that has died out,
extinguished by fear. No, indeed; but my blood is dulled
and chilled by the frost of age, and the strength in my
limbs withered and ice-bound. Had I now what I once
had, what is now the glory and the boast of that loud braggart 30
there; had I but the treasure of youth, I should not
have needed the reward and the goodly bullock to bring
me into the field; nor are gifts what I care for.” So saying,
he flung into the midst a pair of gauntlets of enormous
weight, with which the fiery Eryx[192] was wont to 35