ed around to meet
him.

When the two heroes were near enough to see each other, each was so
filled with admiration for the beautiful form and the bravery of his
opponent that, as if at a given signal, both threw down their weapons
and hastened toward each other. Pirithous extended his hand to Theseus
and proposed that the latter act as arbitrator for the settlement of
the dispute about the cattle: whatever satisfaction Theseus would
demand Pirithous would willingly give.

"The only satisfaction which I desire," answered Pirithous, "is that
you instead of my enemy become my friend and comrade in arms."

Then the two heroes embraced each other and swore eternal friendship.

Soon after this Pirithous chose the Thessalian princess, Hippodamia,
from the race of Lapithae, for his bride, and invited Theseus to the
wedding. The Lapithae, among whom the ceremony took place, were a
famous family of Thessalians, rugged mountaineers, in some respects
resembling animals--the first mortals who had learned to manage a
horse. But the bride, who had sprung from this race, was not at all
like the men of her people. She was of noble form, with delicate
youthful face, so beautiful that all the guests praised Pirithous for
his good fortune.

The assembled princes of Thessaly were at the wedding feast, and also
the Centaurs, relatives of Pirithous. The Centaurs were half men, the
offspring which a cloud, assuming the form of the goddess Hera, had
born to Ixion, the father of Pirithous. They were the eternal enemies
of the Lapithae. Upon this occasion, however, and for the sake of the
bride, they had forgotten past grudges and come together to the joyful
celebration. The noble castle of Pirithous resounded with glad tumult;
bridal songs were sung; wine and food abounded. Indeed, there were so
many guests that the palace would not accommodate all. The Lapithae and
Centaurs sat at a special table in a grotto shaded by trees.

For a long time the festivities went on with undisturbed happiness.
Then the wine began to stir the heart of the wildest of the Centaurs,
Eurytion, and the beauty of the Princess Hippodamia awoke in him the
mad desire of robbing the bridegroom of his bride. Nobody knew how it
came to pass; nobody noticed the beginning of the unthinkable act; but
suddenly the guests saw the wild Eurytion lifting Hippodamia from her
feet, while she struggled and cried for help. His deed was the signal
for the rest of the drunken Centa