But on the cold side looking toward the Now at the noontide naught had happed north

Beheld the gleaming of King Schoeneus' There with the others to a seat he gat, town.

Now for the barefoot milking-maidens And there two runners did the sign abide,

He entered, and along the streets 'gan fare, A maid stood by him like Diana clad

And in dark gardens sang the nightingale And even then he felt her past him bound Her little-heeded, oft-repeated tale.

There to the hart's flank seemed his shaft Among all mothers for its cruelty?

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Then know indeed that fate is good to thee,

Because to-morrow a new luckless one Against the white-foot maid is pledged to run."

So on the morrow with no curious eyes,
As once he did, that piteous sight he saw,
Nor did that wonder in his heart arise 241
As toward the goal the conquering maid
'gan draw,

Nor did he gaze upon
210
her eyes with awe,-
Too full the pain of longing filled his heart
For fear or wonder there to have a
part.
245

So wandering, he to Argive cities came,
And in the lists with valiant men he stood,
And by great deeds he won him praise and
fame,

And heaps of wealth for little-valued blood;
But none of all these things, or life, seemed
good

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