He met with a
great many strange adventures, which would be well worth your hearing,
if I had leisure to narrate them as minutely as they deserve.
It was in this journey, if I mistake not, that he encountered a
prodigious giant, who was so wonderfully contrived by nature that, every
time he touched the earth, he became ten times as strong as ever he had
been before. His name was Antaeus. You may see, plainly enough, that it
was a very difficult business to fight with such a fellow; for, as often
as he got a knock-down blow, up he started again, stronger, fiercer, and
abler to use his weapons than if his enemy had let him alone. Thus, the
harder Hercules pounded the giant with his club, the further he seemed
from winning the victory. I have sometimes argued with such people, but
never fought with one. The only way in which Hercules found it possible
to finish the battle was by lifting Antaeus off his feet into the air,
and squeezing, and squeezing, and squeezing him until, finally, the
strength was quite squeezed out of his enormous body.
When this affair was finished, Hercules continued his travels, and went
to the land of Egypt, where he was taken prisoner, and would have been
put to death if he had not slain the king of the country and made his
escape. Passing through the deserts of Africa, and going as fast as he
could, he arrived at last on the shore of the great ocean.
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