'But, touch'd with sorrow for the deed too late, The raging god prepares t' avenge her fate. He sends a monster horrible and fell, Begot by Furies in the depths of hell. The pest a virgin's face and bosom bears; High on her crown a rising snake appears, Guards her black front, and hisses in her hairs: About the realm she walks her dreadful round, 710 When Night with sable wings o'erspreads the ground, Devours young babes before their parents' eyes, And feeds and thrives on public miseries. 'But generous rage the bold Choroebus warms, Choroebus, famed for virtue as for arms. Some few like him, inspired with martial flame, Thought a short life well lost for endless fame. These, where two ways in equal parts divide, The direful monster from afar descried, Two bleeding babes depending at her side, 720 Whose panting vitals, warm with life, she draws, And in their hearts imbrues her cruel claws. The youths surround her with extended spears; But brave Choroebus in the front appears; Deep in her breast he plunged his shining sword, And hell's dire monster back to hell restored. Th' Inachians view the slain with vast surprise, Her twisting volumes, and her rolling eyes, Her spotted breast, and gaping womb, imbrued With livid poison and our children's blood. 730 The crowd in stupid wonder fix'd appear, Pale ev'n in joy, nor yet forget to fear. Some with vast beams the squalid corse engage, And weary all the wild efforts of rage. The birds obscene, that nightly flock'd to taste, With hollow screeches fled the dire repast; And ravenous dogs, allured by scented blood, And starving wolves, ran howling to the wood. 'But fired with rage, from cleft Parnassus' brow Avenging Phoebus bent his deadly bow, 740 And hissing flew the feather'd fates below: A night of sultry clouds involved around The towers, the fields, and the devoted ground: And now a thousand lives together fled; Death with his scythe cut off the fatal thread, And a whole province in his triumph led. 'But Phoebus, ask'd why noxious fires appear, And raging Sirius blasts the sickly year, Demands their lives by whom his monster fell, And dooms a dreadful sacrifice to hell. 750