“On the prior matter, O Augeas’ child,
    Thine own unaided wit hath ruled aright. 
    But all that monster’s history, how it fell,
    Fain would I tell thee who hast ears to hear,
    Save only whence it came:  for none of all
    The Argive host could read that riddle right. 
    Some god, we dimly guessed, our niggard vows
    Resenting, had upon Phoroneus’ realm
    Let loose this very scourge of humankind. 
    On peopled Pisa plunging like a flood
    The brute ran riot:  notably it cost
    Its neighbours of Bembina woes untold. 
    And here Eurystheus bade me try my first
    Passage of arms, and slay that fearsome thing. 
    So with my buxom bow and quiver lined
    With arrows I set forth:  my left hand held
    My club, a beetling olive’s stalwart trunk
    And shapely, still environed in its bark: 
    This hand had torn from holiest Helicon
    The tree entire, with all its fibrous roots. 
    And finding soon the lion’s whereabouts,
    I grasped my bow, and on the bent horn slipped
    The string, and laid thereon the shaft of death. 
    And, now all eyes, I watched for that fell thing,
    In hopes to view him ere he spied out me. 
    But midday came, and nowhere could I see
    One footprint of the beast or hear his roar: 
    And, trust me, none appeared of whom to ask,
    Herdsman or labourer, in the furrowed lea;
    For wan dismay kept each man in his hut. 
    Still on I footed, searching through and through
    The leafy mountain-passes, till I saw
    The creature, and forthwith essayed my strength. 
    Gorged from some gory carcass, on he stalked
    At eve towards his lair; his grizzled mane,
    Shoulders, and grim glad visage, all adrip
    With carnage; and he licked his bearded lips. 
    I, crouched among the shadows of the trees
    On the green hill-top, waited his approach,
    And as he came I aimed at his left flank. 
    The barbed shaft sped idly, nor could pierce
    The flesh, but glancing dropped on the green grass. 
    He, wondering, raised forthwith his tawny head,
    And ran his eyes o’er all the vicinage,
    And snarled and gave to view his cavernous throat. 
    Meanwhile I levelled yet another shaft,
    Ill pleased to think my first had fled in vain. 
    In the mid-chest I smote him, where the lungs
    Are seated:  still the arrow sank not in,
    But fell, its errand frustrate, at his feet. 
    Once more was I preparing, sore chagrined,
    To draw the bowstring, when the ravenous beast
    Glaring around espied me, lashed his sides
    With his huge tail, and opened war at once. 
    Swelled his vast neck, his dun locks stood on end
    With rage:  his spine moved sinuous as a bow,
    Till all his weight hung poised on flank and loin. 
    And e’en as, when a