A fear of treachery. I thought to prove
The charm. Fierce Nessus, I bethought me then,
Had bidden me to keep the blood from flame;720
And this advice itself foreboded fraud.
It chanced the sun was shining, bright and warm,
Undimmed by clouds. As I recall it now,
My fear scarce suffers me to tell the tale.[30]
Into the blazing radiance of the sun725
I cast the blood-stained remnant of the cloth
With which the fatal garment had been smeared.