And henbane dire and all the poisonous herbs

That lurk on Cretan slopes, still had they drunk

The fatal waters, rather than endure

Such lingering agony. Their bowels racked

With torments as of flame; the swollen tongue

And jaws now parched and rigid, and the veins;

Each laboured breath with anguish from the lungs

Enfeebled, moistureless, was scarcely drawn,

(Editor：nature)