’Twixt the Curetes and the Aetolian band Of braves. The war, while Meleager fought, Went not with the Curetes, nor could they, Though many, keep the field. But wrath at last Seized Meleager⁠—wrath, which rages oft Even in prudent minds. Incensed against Althaea, his own mother, he remained At home with Cleopatra, his young wife, The beauteous, whom a delicate-footed dame Marpessa, daughter of Evenus, bore To Idas, bravest in his time among The sons of men⁠—so brave that once he drew A bow against Apollo for the sake Of his neat-footed bride. The honored pair Within the palace used to call their child Alcyone; for when the archer-god, Apollo, from her husband bore away The mother, Cleopatra sadly wailed, As wails the halcyon. So beside his spouse Dwelt Meleager, brooding ever o’er The violent anger which his mother’s curse Had kindled. Grieving for a brother’s death, She supplicated heaven, and often struck Her hands against the teeming earth, and called⁠—