And so she cometh, as that herdsman winged 550
Pierces with sharpest sting,
To holy plain all forms of life sustaining,
Fields that are fed from snows,[244]
Which Typhon's monstrous strength has traversed,[245]
And unto Neilos' streams,
By sickly taint untouched,[246]
Still maddened with her toil of ignominy,
By torturing stings driven on, great Hera's frenzied slave.