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by his son-in-law Polynices, and much did he counsel him, what arts would soothe the horse when enraged, not to use too fierce a hand, nor to let him gallop free of the rein; “urge other steeds,” said he, “with voice and goad; but he will go, ay, faster than you wish.” Even so, when the sun granted the fiery reins and set his son upon the whirling chariot, with tears did he warn the rejoicing youth of treacherous stars and zones that would fain not be o’errun and the temperate heat that lies midway between the poles; obedient was he and cautious, but the cruel Fates would not suffer him to learn. Amphiaraus, next favourite for the prize, aloft in his chariot drives Oebalian steeds; thy progeny, Cyllarus, stealthily begotten while far away by the mouth of Scythian Pontus Castor was exchanging for the oar the Amyclean rein. Snow-white his own raiment, snow-white are the coursers that lend their necks to the yoke, his helm and fillet match the whiteness of his crested plume. Admetus, too, the fortunate, from Thessalian shores, can scarce restrain his barren mares, of Centaur’s seed, as they tell (so scornful, methinks, are they of their sex, and their natural heat turns all to body’s vigour).^[1] White with dark flecks, they resemble day and night: so strongly marked was each colour, nor unfit were they to be deemed of that stock^[2] which stood spellbound at the piping of the Castalian reed, and scorned their pasture when they heard Apollo play. Lo! the young sons of Jason, too, their mother Hypsipyle’s new-found pride, took stand upon the chariots wherein each rode, Thoas, bearing the name of his grandsire, proper to his race, and Euneos,^[3] called from Argo’s omen. In everything were the twins alike,