d Theseus, "to vex Pirithous
while I still live, and by so doing arouse the anger of two heroes?"
With these words he forced his way through the crowd and tore the stolen
bride from the struggling robber.

Eurytion said nothing, for he could not excuse his deed, but he lifted
his hand toward Theseus and gave him a rough knock in the chest. Then
Theseus, who had no weapon at hand, seized an iron jug of embossed
workmanship which stood near by and flung it into the face of his
opponent with such force that the Centaur fell backward on the ground,
while brains and blood oozed from the wound in his head.

"To arms!" the cry arose from all sides. At first beakers, flasks and
bowls flew back and forth. Then one sacrilegious monster grabbed the
oblations from the neighboring apartments. Another tore down the lamp
which burned over the table, while still another fought with a
sacrificial deer which had hung on one side of the grotto. A frightful
slaughter ensued. Rhoetus, the most wicked of the Centaurs after
Eurytion, seized the largest brand from the altar and thrust it into the
gaping wound of one of the fallen Lapithae, so that the blood hissed like
iron in a furnace. In opposition to him rose Dryas, the bravest of the
Lapithae, and seizing a glowing log from the fire, thrust it into the
Centaur's neck. The fate of this Centaur atoned for the death of his
fallen companion, and Dryas turned to the raging mob and laid five of
them low.

Then the spear of the brave hero Pirithous flew forth and pierced a
mighty Centaur, Petraus, just as he was about to uproot a tree to use it
for a club. The spear pinned him against the knotted oak. A second,
Dictys, fell at the stroke of the Greek hero, and in falling snapped off
a mighty ash tree; a third, wishing to avenge him, was crushed by
Theseus with an oak club.

The most beautiful and youthful of the Centaurs was Cyllarus. His long
hair and beard were golden; his smile was friendly; his neck, shoulders,
hands and breast were as beautiful as if formed by an artist. Even the
lower part of his body, the part which resembled a horse, was faultless,
pitch-black in color, with legs and tail of lighter dye. He had come to
the feast with his wife, the beautiful Centaur, Hylonome, who at the
table had leaned gracefully against him and even now united with him in
the raging fight. He received from an unknown hand a light wound near
his heart, and sank dying in the arms of his wife. Hylonom