The women immediately assembled at the altar of the goddess and supplicatingly scattered incense in the sacred flames. Hardly had they begun the offering song when Niobe appeared, proudly advancing. She wore a gold-embroidered cloak and on her brow gleamed a diadem. Standing before the altar, she raised her head proudly and said: “Foolish ones, would you honor Latona and refuse incense at my altar? Was not my father, Tantalus, a guest at the tables of the gods? Atlas, who carries the world’s axle on his shoulders, is my ancestor. Zeus is another. My power extends even in far-off Phrygia. The stones with which Cadmus built this city and its castle dance to the music of my husband’s lute. Wherever you look in my palace you find inexhaustible treasures. But it is my richest fortune to be the mother of seven stately sons and as many blooming daughters. And yet you offer to Latona, who has borne but two, Apollo and Artemis (Diane)! Do you not know, foolish ones, how she was persecuted by Juno when the hour of her delivery approached? She could find refuge neither in heaven nor on earth, so contemptuously was she regarded! At last the island of Delos pitied the fugitive and said to her: ‘Thou wanderest about restless, like myself, and so I have compassion for thee and offer thee refuge.’ She remained at Delos and bore the Twins who are so highly esteemed by mortals—Apollo and Diane. But am not I with my fourteen children more blest than she with two? She is almost childless, but I am rich in children. So take the laurels from your brows and leave the altar of the goddess who is far less fortunate than I.” The Theban women reluctantly acceded to her request. Holding their wreaths in their hands, they stole away, but did not forget to supplicate their goddess in light murmurs. Latona was angry at the insult which Niobe offered her. She called her children, Apollo and Artemis, and said to them: “Behold, my children, how that woman has dishonored me and how the Theban women have forsaken my altar!” While the goddess was requesting them to avenge her shameful treatment, Apollo interposed and said: “Say no more, divine mother, your wrongs shall be speedily righted.” Artemis said the same. Thereupon they betook themselves to the castle built by Cadmus. Nearby they found the fields covered with the tracks of horses which Niobe’s sons were driving about. Suddenly Ismenos, the eldest, cried out in agony. Behold, his heart was pierced with a silver arrow shot by Apollo from a cloud with his unerring bow. The youth paled at the sight and his gold-mounted bridle dropped from his hands. He raised his head again and fell, dying, from his horse. When Sipylus saw this, terror seized him and he sought to escape. But his fate overtook him. The arrow was shot at him with such skill that it pierced his throat. Plunging forward, his blood ran down his steed’s white neck and a moment after he fell lifeless to the earth.