er delay, and the time that she has
lost, with a swift pace, and again she leaves the youth behind. And,
retarded by the throwing of a second apple, again she overtakes the
{young} man, and passes by him. The last part of the race {now}
remained. '{And} now,' said he, 'O Goddess, giver of this present, aid
me;' and {then} with youthful might, he threw the shining gold, in an
oblique direction, on one side of the plain, in order that she might
return the more slowly. The maiden seemed to be in doubt, whether she
should fetch it; I forced her to take it up, and added weight to the
apple, when she had taken it up, and I impeded her, both by the
heaviness of the burden, and the delay in reaching it. And that my
narrative may not be more tedious than that race, the virgin was outrun,
and the conqueror obtained the prize.

"And was I not, Adonis, deserving that he should return thanks to me,
and the tribute of frankincense? but, in his ingratitude, he gave me
neither thanks nor frankincense. I was thrown into a sudden passion; and
provoked at being slighted, I provided by {making} an example, that I
should not be despised in future times, and I aroused myself against
them both. They were passing by a temple, concealed within a shady wood,
which the famous Echion had formerly built for the Mother of the Gods,
according to his vow; and the length of their journey moved them to take
rest {there}. There, an unseasonable desire of caressing {his wife}
seized Hippomenes, excited by my agency. Near the temple was a recess,
with {but} little light, like a cave, covered with native pumice stone,
{one} sacred from ancient religious observance; where the priest had
conveyed many a wooden image of the ancient Gods. This he entered, and
he defiled the sanctuary by a forbidden crime. The sacred images turned
away their eyes, and the Mother {of the Gods}, crowned with turrets,[61]
was in doubt whether she should plunge these guilty ones in the Stygian
stream. That seemed {too} light a punishment. Wherefore yellow manes
cover their necks so lately smooth; their fingers are bent into claws,
of their shoulders are made fore-legs;[62] their whole weight passes
into their breasts. The surface of the sand is swept by their tails.[63]
Their look has anger {in it}; instead of words they utter growls;
instead of chambers they haunt the woods; and dreadful to others, {as}
lions, they champ the bits of Cybele with subdued jaws. Do thou, beloved
by me,