of it, like the sap of a mountain-oak, she had gathered in a Caspian shell to make the charm withal, when she had first bathed in seven ever-flowing streams, and had called seven times on Brimo, nurse of youth, night-wandering Brimo, of the underworld, queen among the dead,—­in the gloom of night, clad in dusky garments.  And beneath, the dark earth shook and bellowed when the Titanian root was cut; and the son of Iapetus himself groaned, his soul distraught with pain.  And she brought the charm forth and placed it in the fragrant band which engirdled her, just beneath her bosom, divinely fair.  And going forth she mounted the swift chariot, and with her went two handmaidens on each side.  And she herself took the reins and in her right hand the well-fashioned whip, and drove through the city; and the rest, the handmaids, laid their hands on the chariot behind and ran along the broad highway; and they kilted up their light robes above their white knees.  And even as by the mild waters of Parthenius, or after bathing in the river Amnisus, Leto’s daughter stands upon her golden chariot and courses over the hills with her swift-footed roes, to greet from afar some richly-steaming hecatomb; and with her come the nymphs in attendance, gathering, some at the spring of Amnisus itself, others by the glens and many-fountained peaks; and round her whine and fawn the beasts cowering as she moves along:  thus they sped through the city; and on both sides the people gave way shunning the eyes of the royal maiden.  But when she had left the city’s well paved streets, and was approaching the shrine as she drove over the plains, then she alighted eagerly from the smooth-running chariot and spake as follows among her maidens: 

[Footnote 1:  i.e. the liquid that flows in the veins of gods.]

“Friends, verily have I sinned greatly and took no heed not to go among the stranger-folk[1] who roam over our land.  The whole city is smitten with dismay; wherefore no one of the women who formerly gathered here day by day has now come hither.  But since we have come and no one else draws near, come, let us satisfy our souls without stint with soothing song, and when we have plucked the fair flowers amid the tender grass, that very hour will we return.  And with many a gift shall ye reach home this very day, if ye will gladden me with this desire of mine.  For Argus pleads with me, also Chalciope herself; but this that ye hear from me keep silently in your hearts, lest the tale reach my father’s ears.  As for yon stranger who took on him the task with the oxen, they bid me receive his gifts and rescue him from the deadly contest.  And I approved their counsel, and I have summoned him to come to my presence apart from his comrades, so that we may divide the gifts among ourselves if he bring them in his hands, and in return may give him a baleful charm.  But when he comes, do ye stand aloof.”

[Footnote 1:  Or, reading [Greek:  menim], “took no heed of the cause of wrath with the stranger-folk”]