Whom he may answer." But the maiden's guile

Was known, for though she would deny the gods

Her fears approved them. On her front she binds

A twisted fillet, while a shining wreath

Of Phocian laurels crowns the locks that flow

Upon her shoulders. Hesitating yet

The priest compelled her, and she passed within.

But horror filled her of the holiest depths

(Editor：government)