gliding in the peaceful air, she skims her liquid way and stirs not her swift pinions – so Mnestheus, so the Dragon of herself, cleaves in flight the final stretch, so her mere sped carries her on her winged course. And first he leaves Sergestus behind, struggling on the high rock and in shallow waters, making vain appeals for help and learning to race with broken oars.

Then he overhauls Gyas, even the Chimaera with her huge bulk; she gives way, robbed of her helmsman.

And now, hard on the very goal, Cloanthus alone is left. For him Mnestheus makes, striving with all his might and pressing hard. Then indeed the shouts redouble, all together with cheers hearten the pursuer, the sky echoes to their din. These think it shame not to keep the honour that is theirs, the glory they have