I came hard by this three-forked road, there met me there,
Just as thou tellest it, a herald and a man
Mounted upon a carriage that was drawn by colts.
And here the leader and the old man, too, himself,
The pair of them, would thrust me rudely from the path,
And I, enraged, strike him—the charioteer—who tried
To push me off. And then the old man, seeing this,
Fetched me a blow with two-pronged goad full on my head
As I strode by. No equal penalty he paid,
Not he. By one swift blow from staff in this my hand