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As before the swift-winged hawks doth a cloud of doves take flight.{1050}

Through the gates in a huddled rout they poured, and the town straightway

With the war-yell was filled, and backward rolled was the woeful fray.

But at dawn were they ware, both these and those, of the cureless ill,

Of the ruinous error; and now did bitter anguish fill

The Minyan heroes, beholding before them Aineus’ child

Stretched in the dust, and Kyzikus lying blood-defiled.

For three whole days with rending of hair did they mourn his doom,

Even they with the Dolian folk. Thereafter about his tomb

Three times in their brazen armour the round of lament did they pace,

And buried him: funeral games held they in the selfsame place,{1060}

As was meet, in the meadow-plain where yet before the eyes

Of the folk of the latter day doth the heap of his grave-mound rise.

Yea, neither would Kleitê his wife any more mid the living abide,

Forlorn of her lord; but a woefuller evil she added beside

To the evil done, when clasping her neck with the noose she died.