POLYDEUCES. 
    Luck to thee, friend unknown!  Who own this shore?

    AMYCUS. 
    Luck, quotha, to see men ne’er seen before!

    POLYDEUCES. 
    Fear not, no base or base-born herd are we.

    AMYCUS. 
    Nothing I fear, nor need learn this from thee.

    POLYDEUCES. 
    What art thou? brutish churl, or o’erproud king?

    AMYCUS. 
    E’en what thou see’st:  and I am not trespassing.

    POLYDEUCES. 
    Visit our land, take gifts from us, and go.

    AMYCUS. 
    I seek naught from thee and can naught bestow.

    POLYDEUCES. 
    Not e’en such grace as from yon spring to sip?

    AMYCUS. 
    Try, if parched thirst sits languid on thy lip.

    POLYDEUCES. 
    Can silver move thee? or if not, what can?

    AMYCUS. 
    Stand up and fight me singly, man with man.

    POLYDEUCES. 
    With fists? or fist and foot, eye covering eye?

    AMYCUS. 
    Fall to with fists; and all thy cunning try.

    POLYDEUCES. 
    This arm, these gauntlets, who shall dare withstand?

    AMYCUS. 
    I:  and “the Bruiser” lifts no woman’s-hand.

    POLYDEUCES. 
    Wilt thou, to crown our strife, some meed assign?

    AMYCUS. 
    Thou shalt be called my master, or I thine.

    POLYDEUCES. 
    By crimson-crested cocks such games are won.

    AMYCUS. 
    Lions or cocks, we’ll play this game or none.

      He spoke, and clutched a hollow shell, and blew
    His clarion.  Straightway to the shadowy pine
    Clustering they came, as loud it pealed and long,
    Bebrycia’s bearded sons; and Castor too,
    The peerless in the lists, went forth and called
    From the Magnesian ship the Heroes all.

      Then either warrior armed with coils of hide
    His hands, and round his limbs bound ponderous bands,
    And, breathing bloodshed, stept into the ring. 
    First there was much manoeuvring, who should catch
    The sunlight on his rear:  but thou didst foil,
    O Polydeuces, valour by address;
    And full on Amycus’ face the hot noon smote. 
    He in hot wrath strode forward, threatening war;
    Straightway the Tyndarid smote him, as he closed,
    Full on the chin:  more furious waxed he still,
    And, earthward bent, dealt blindly random blows. 
    Bebrycia shouted loud, the Greeks too cheered
    Their champion:  fearing lest in that scant space
    This Tityus by sheer weight should bear him down. 
    But, shifting yet still there, the son of Zeus
    Scored him with swift exchange of left and right,
    And checked the onrush of the sea-god’s child
    Parlous albeit:  till, reeling with his wounds,
    He stood, and from his lips