She knows not how to rage. O Hercules,
For me didst thou thy mighty battles wage;
For me did Acheloüs dye his waves300
With his own blood in mortal strife with thee,
When now a writhing serpent he became,
Now to a threatening bull he turned himself,
And thou a thousand beasts didst overcome
In one sole enemy. But now, alas,
Am I no longer pleasing in thy sight,
And this base captive is preferred to me.