As backward looks he sends
At my pursuing car
That threatens death from far.
Fear shrinks to half the body small;
See how he fears the arrow's fall!

The path he takes is strewed
With blades of grass half-chewed
From jaws wide with the stress
Of fevered weariness.
He leaps so often and so high,
He does not seem to run, but fly.

(_In surprise_.) Pursue as I may, I can hardly keep him in sight.

_Charioteer_. Your Majesty, I have been holding the horses back
because the ground was rough. This checked us and gave the deer a
lead. Now we are on level ground, and you will easily overtake him.

_King_. Then let the reins hang loose.

_Charioteer_. Yes, your Majesty. (_He counterfeits rapid motion_.)
Look, your Majesty!

The lines hang loose; the steeds unreined
Dart forward with a will.
Their ears are pricked; their necks are strained;
Their plumes lie straight and still.
They leave the rising dust behind;
They seem to float upon the wind.