Ovid,
Metamorphoses (tr. Garth, Dryden…
(1727)
“ At length, now Monster, in thy turn, he cry'd, Try thou the Strength of Cæneus: At the Word He thrust; and in his Shoulder plung'd the Sword. Then writh'd his Hand; and as he drove it down, Deep in his Breast, made many Wounds in one. The Centaurs saw, inrag'd, th' unhop'd Success; And rushing on, in Crowds, together press; At him, and him alone, their Darts they threw: Repuls'd they from his fated Body flew. Amaz'd they stood; till Monichus began, O Shame, a Nation conquer'd by a Man! A Woman-Man! yet more a Man is he, Than all our Race; and what he was, are we. ”
