But one that watched beheld her: for albeit he was at sheep-gathering
Pytho, yet was the temple's king Loxias aware thereof, beside his
unerring partner[2], for he gave heed to his own wisdom, his mind that
knoweth all things; in lies it hath no part, neither in act or thought
may god or man deceive him.

Therefore when he was aware of how she lay with the stranger Ischys
son of Elatos, and of her guile unrighteous, he sent his sister fierce
with terrible wrath to go to Lakereia--for by the steep shores of the
Boibian lake was the home of her virginity--and thus a doom adverse
blasted her life and smote her down: and of her neighbours many fared
ill therefore and perished with her: so doth a fire that from one
spark has leapt upon a mountain lay waste wide space of wood.

But when her kinsfolk had laid the damsel upon the pile of wood, and
fierce brightness of Hephaistos ran around it, then said Apollo: 'Not
any longer may I endure in my soul to slay mine own seed by a most
cruel death in company with its mother's grievous fate.'

He said, and at the first stride he was there, and from the corpse
caught up the child, and the blaze of the burning fiery pile was
cloven before him asunder in the midst.

Then to the Kentaur of Magnes he bare the child, that he should teach
him to be a healer of the many-plaguing maladies of men. And thus all
that came unto him whether plagued with self-grown sores or with limbs
wounded by the lustrous bronze or stone far-hurled, or marred by
summer heat or winter cold--these he delivered, loosing each from
his several infirmity, some with emollient spells and some by kindly
potions, or else he hung their limbs with charms, or by surgery he
raised them up to health.

Yet hath even wisdom been led captive of desire of gain. Even him did
gold in his hands glittering beguile for a great reward to bring back
from death a man already prisoner thereto: wherefore the hands of the
son of Kronos smote the twain of them through the midst, and bereft
their breasts of breath, and the bright lightning dealt them doom.

It behoveth to seek from gods things meet for mortal souls, knowing
the things that are in our path and to what portion we are born.
Desire not thou, dear my soul, a life immortal, but use the tools that
are to thine hand.

Now were wise Cheiron in his cavern dwelling yet, and had our
sweet-voiced songs laid haply some fair magic on his soul, then had
I won him to grant to worthy