Kitap 8
she praised his skill and strength; and when he bent
1
his curving bow with arrow on the cord,
she pictured him as Phoebus taking aim,—
but when, arrayed in purple, and upon
the back of his white war horse, proudly decked
with richly broidered housings, he reined in
the nervous steed, and took his helmet off,
showing his fearless features, then the maid,
daughter of Nisus, could control herself
no longer; and a frenzy seized her mind.
She called the javelin happy which he touched,
and blessed were the reins within his hand.
She had an impulse to direct her steps,
a tender virgin, through the hostile ranks,
or cast her body from the topmost towers
into the Gnossian camp. She had a wild
desire to open to the enemy
the heavy brass-bound gates, or anything
beholding the white tents, she cried, “Alas!
Should I rejoice or grieve to see this war?
I grieve that Minos is the enemy
of her who loves him; but unless the war
had brought him, how could he be known to me?
But should he take me for a hostage? That
might end the war—a pledge of peace, he might
keep me for his companion.
of mankind! she who bore you must have been
as beautiful as you are; ample cause
for Jove to lose his heart.
If moving upon wings through yielding air,
I could alight within the hostile camp
in front of Minos, and declare to him
what dowry he could wish, and would provide
whatever he might ask, except alone
