and groans, and draws up a curtain of smoke over the
sky. That night, in the shelter of the woods, we endure
the visitation of monstrous portents, yet see not what
cause produces the sound. For there was no starlight,
no sky, bright with a heaven of constellations, but the
firmament was dim and murky, and dead night was keeping
the moon in a prison of storm-clouds. 5
“And now the next day was breaking in early dawn,
and Aurora had drawn off the dewy shadow from the
sky, when suddenly from the woods comes forth the