With fearless look he raised their close-coiled folds,220
And crushed their swollen necks with tender hand.
And thus he practiced for the hydra's death.
He caught the nimble stag of Maenalus,
Its beauteous head adorned with horns of gold.
The lion, terror of Nemean woods,
Groaned out his life beneath the mighty arms225
Of Hercules. Why should I call to mind
The stables dire of that Bistonian herd,
And the king as food to his own horses given?