52
Orion.
[Book II.
Orion took the torch, and led the way
Into the dark damp air. Each to his post
Assigning; one, for the chief mountain pass,
Soon as the grey dawn touched the highest peaks;
One, in the plains below; two, for the woods;
The while Biastor and himself would range
The island, driving to the centre all
That should escape their spears. 'T was thus resolved.
Meantime Rhexergon and Biastor joined
Orion, who went forth to dig the pits,
Break down high tops of trees, and weave their boughs
In barrier walls, and fix sharp stakes on mounds
And river banks. When they were gone, a yell,
Mocking the wild beasts doomed to be destroyed,
Harpax sent forth. "Mine be the task," he said,
"To ravage the King's pastures—slay his bulls—
And into our own woods and meadows drive
His goats and stags." "Rather collect alive,"
Autarces interposed, "with strong-meshed nets,
All the mad beasts, and loose them suddenly
Within Œnopion's palace! That were sport
Worthy our toil; small joy for us to aid
Orion's freaks for love of Merope,—
Whom yet, methinks, he wisely hath preferred
Into the dark damp air. Each to his post
Assigning; one, for the chief mountain pass,
Soon as the grey dawn touched the highest peaks;
One, in the plains below; two, for the woods;
The while Biastor and himself would range
The island, driving to the centre all
That should escape their spears. 'T was thus resolved.
Meantime Rhexergon and Biastor joined
Orion, who went forth to dig the pits,
Break down high tops of trees, and weave their boughs
In barrier walls, and fix sharp stakes on mounds
And river banks. When they were gone, a yell,
Mocking the wild beasts doomed to be destroyed,
Harpax sent forth. "Mine be the task," he said,
"To ravage the King's pastures—slay his bulls—
And into our own woods and meadows drive
His goats and stags." "Rather collect alive,"
Autarces interposed, "with strong-meshed nets,
All the mad beasts, and loose them suddenly
Within Œnopion's palace! That were sport
Worthy our toil; small joy for us to aid
Orion's freaks for love of Merope,—
Whom yet, methinks, he wisely hath preferred
