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trained, then confidently do they push further out into the main nor seek the vanished coast.

The bright consort of Tithonus had shown in heaven her toil-bringing car, and Night and Sleep with empty horn^[1] were fleeing from the pale goddess’ wakeful reins; already the ways are loud with wailing, and the palace with tearful lamentation; from afar the wild forests catch the sounds, and scatter them in a thousand echoes. The father himself^[2] sits stripped of the honour of the twined fillet, his unkempt head and neglected beard sprinkled with the dust of mourning. More violent than he and passionate with more than a man’s grief, the bereaved mother urges on her handmaidens by example and by speech, willing though they be, and yearns to cast herself upon the mangled remains of her child, and as oft they tear her from them and bring her back. Even the father too restrains her. Soon when the Inachian princes with royal bearing entered the sorrowing portals, then, as though the stroke were fresh and the babe but newly hurt, or the deadly serpent had burst into the palace, they smite their breasts though wearied and raise clamour upon clamour, and the doors re-echo with the new-kindled wailing; the Pelasgians feel their ill-will and plead their innocence with streaming tears.

Adrastus himself, whenso’er the tumult was quelled and the distracted house fell silent, and opportunity was given, addressed the sire unbidden with consoling words, reviewing now the cruel destiny of mankind and the inexorable thread of doom, now giving hope of other offspring and pledges that by heaven’s favour would endure. But he had not ended, when mourning broke forth anew. Nor does the king more gently