acres, and there is a monstrous vulture with hooked beak 15
shearing away his imperishable liver, and reaping a harvest
of suffering from his vitals, as it digs deep for its meal,
and burrows in the cavern of his breast, nor gives the
new-growing filaments rest or respite. What need to tell
of the Lapithæ, of Ixion[223] and Pirithous—men who live 20
under a black crag, ever falling, and just in act to drop?
The lofty couch is spread for the banquet, and the pillar
of gold gleams underneath: the feast is before them,
served in kingly luxury; but the eldest of the Furies is