One day it chanced that a stranger came to the city on a morning that a race was to be run. The night before he had slept in a village near by, and the people had told him the tale of Atalanta, and how on the morrow another suitor was to run to his death. But he scoffed at their words.
"No man would run to certain death," he said, "were the maid as fair as Aphrodite."
"Go and see for thyself," they replied. "Soon we shall hear that thou too wilt run in the race."
"Never," he said; "no woman can cheat my life from me."
But they shook their heads unconvinced.
"Many before thee have spoken likewise," said they, "and yet they have run."
"If I run, I will run to win," he answered.
"Can a snail outstrip a deer?" they asked.
"It might so chance," said he.