hem to the Argives. These were for the painful art of
wrestling. For the winner there was a great tripod ready for setting
upon the fire, and the Achaeans valued it among themselves at twelve
oxen. For the loser he brought out a woman skilled in all manner of
arts, and they valued her at four oxen. He rose and said among the
Argives, "Stand forward, you who will essay this contest."

Forthwith uprose great Ajax the son of Telamon, and crafty Ulysses,
full of wiles, rose also. The two girded themselves and went into the
middle of the ring. They gripped each other in their strong hands like
the rafters which some master-builder frames for the roof of a high
house to keep the wind out. Their backbones cracked as they tugged at
one another with their mighty arms--and sweat rained from them in
torrents. Many a bloody weal sprang up on their sides and shoulders,
but they kept on striving with might and main for victory and to win
the tripod. Ulysses could not throw Ajax, nor Ajax him; Ulysses was too
strong for him; but when the Achaeans began to tire of watching them,
Ajax said to Ulysses, "Ulysses, noble son of Laertes, you shall either
lift me, or I you, and let Jove settle it between us."

He lifted him from the ground as he spoke, but Ulysses did not forget
his cunning. He hit Ajax in the hollow at back of his knee, so that he
could not keep his feet, but fell on his back with Ulysses lying upon
his chest, and all who saw it marvelled. Then Ulysses in turn lifted
Ajax and stirred him a little from the ground but could not lift him
right off it, his knee sank under him, and the two fell side by side on
the ground and were all begrimed with dust. They now sprang towards one
another and were for wrestling yet a third time, but Achilles rose and
stayed them. "Put not each other further," said he, "to such cruel
suffering; the victory is with both alike, take each of you an equal
prize, and let the other Achaeans now compete."

Thus did he speak and they did even as he had said, and put on their
shirts again after wiping the dust from off their bodies.

The son of Peleus then offered prizes for speed in running--a
mixing-bowl beautifully wrought, of pure silver. It would hold six
measures, and far exceeded all others in the whole world for beauty; it
was the work of cunning artificers in Sidon, and had been brought into
port by Phoenicians from beyond the sea, who had made a present of it
to Thoas. Eueneus son of Jason had