To quench their thirst each in the others' blood.
But lo, thy house perceives thy near approach,
And shrinks in horror from thy loathsome touch.
But now enough. Do thou go back again105
To thine infernal caves and 'customed stream;
For here the sad earth groans beneath thy feet.
Dost thou not see how, driven far within,
The waters flee their springs? how river banks
Are empty, and the fiery wind drives on
The scattered clouds? The trees grow sickly pale,