Ariston then brought the animal to be sacrificed, a tiny sucking-pig. The blood flowed from a wound in the neck.
At the sight of the red stream he fixed an accusing glance on his daughter’s head and then raised his eyes to Heaven, as though seeking refuge from inexpressible agony.
“Woman,” he murmured, “prepare!”
Byssa stretched out her arms.
Ariston held the animal before her and let the blood stream down over her hands, repeating in a low voice:
“Blood expiates blood.”
Then he brought a basin of consecrated water in which Byssa’s mother, to strengthen its effect, had placed a brand from the altar before the house.
Invoking Zeus as the god of purification and the guardian of those who prayed, he washed Byssa’s hands and arms. When this was accomplished he burned the cakes and other offerings, first pouring on them as a libation water mixed with honey—meantime praying that Zeus would restrain the wrath of the goddess of vengeance and show himself merciful and gracious.
Then, taking Byssa’s hand, he drew her up from the hearth.
“My daughter,” he said, “the blood is expiated and the uncleanness washed away with consecrated water. Thou art no longer an outcast, odious to the gods. Thou canst again enter the places of assemblage and the temples consecrated to the deities; thou canst once more mingle among thy companions, amid bond and free. But this is not all. Now that thou hast obtained the forgiveness of the gods, thou must be answerable to men....”