made their menace good. The son of Jove And amber-haired Latona took their lives Ere yet beneath their temples sprang the down And covered with its sprouting tufts the chin.
“Phaedra I saw, and Procris, and the child Of the wise Minos, Ariadne, famed For beauty, whom the hero Theseus once From Crete to hallowed Athens’ fertile coast Led, but possessed her not. Diana gave Ear to the tale which Bacchus brought to her, And in the isle of Dia slew the maid.
“And Maera I beheld, and Clymenè, And Eriphylè, hateful in her guilt, Who sold her husband for a price in gold. But vainly might I think to name them all— The wives and daughters of heroic men Whom I beheld—for first the ambrosial night Would wear away. And now for me the hour Of sleep is come, at my good ship among My friends, or haply here. Meantime the care For my return is with the gods and you.”
He spake, and all were silent: all within The shadows of those palace-halls were held Motionless by the charm of what he said. And thus the white-armed Queen Aretè spake:—