the grandson of Lycoreian Phoebus and the chaste maiden
Acacallis, whom once Minos drove from home to dwell in Libya, his own
daughter, when she was bearing the gods' heavy load; and she bare to
Phoebus a glorious son, whom they call Amphithemis and Garamas. And
Amphithemis wedded a Tritonian nymph; and she bare to him Nasamon and
strong Caphaurus, who on that day in defending his sheep slew Canthus.
But he escaped not the chieftains' avenging hands, when they learned the
deed he had done. And the Minyae, when they knew it, afterwards took up
the corpse and buried it in the earth, mourning; and the sheep they took
with them.

[Footnote 1: This seems to be the only possible translation, but the
optative is quite anomalous. We should expect [Greek: ekomizes].]

Thereupon on the same day a pitiless fate seized Mopsus too, son of
Ampycus; and he escaped not a bitter doom by his prophesying; for there
is no averting of death. Now there lay in the sand, avoiding the midday
heat, a dread serpent, too sluggish of his own will to strike at an
unwilling foe, nor yet would he dart full face at one that would shrink
back. But into whatever of all living beings that life-giving earth
sustains that serpent once injects his black venom, his path to Hades
becomes not so much as a cubit's length, not even if Paeeon, if it is
right for me to say this openly, should tend him, when its teeth have
only grazed the skin. For when over Libya flew godlike Perseus
Eurymedon--for by that name his mother called him--bearing to the king
the Gorgon's head newly severed, all the drops of dark blood that fell
to the earth, produced a brood of those serpents. Now Mopsus stepped on
the end of its spine, setting thereon the sole of his left foot; and it
writhed round in pain and bit and tore the flesh between the shin and
the muscles. And Medea and her handmaids fled in terror; but Canthus
bravely felt the bleeding wound; for no excessive pain harassed him.
Poor wretch! Already a numbness that loosed his limbs was stealing
beneath his skin, and a thick mist was spreading over his eyes.
Straightway his heavy limbs sank helplessly to the ground and he grew
cold; and his comrades and the hero, Aeson's son, gathered round,
marvelling at the close-coming doom. Nor yet though dead might he lie
beneath the sun even for a little space. For at once the poison began to
rot his flesh within, and the hair decayed and fell from the skin. And
quickly and in haste the