life merely to win a bride. But when Atalanta stood ready for the
contest, he was amazed by her beauty. She looked like Hebe, goddess of
young health, who is a glad serving-maiden to the gods when they sit at
feast.

The signal was given, and, as she and the suitors darted away, flight
made her more enchanting than ever. Just as a wind brings sparkles to
the water and laughter to the trees, haste fanned her loveliness to a
glow.

Alas for the suitors! She ran as if Hermes had lent her his winged
sandals. The young men, skilled as they were, grew heavy with weariness
and despair. For all their efforts, they seemed to lag like ships in a
calm, while Atalanta flew before them in some favoring breeze--and
reached the goal!

To the sorrow of all on-lookers, the suitors were led away; but the
judge himself, Hippomenes, rose and begged leave to try his fortune. As
Atalanta listened, and looked at him, her heart was filled with pity,
and she would willingly have let him win the race to save him from
defeat and death; for he was comely and younger than the others. But
her friends urged her to rest and make ready, and she consented, with
an unwilling heart.

Meanwhile Hippomenes prayed within himself to Venus: "Goddess of Love,
give ear, and send me good speed. Let me be swift to win as I have been
swift to love her."

Now Venus, who was not far off,--for she had already moved the heart of
Hippomenes to love,--came to his side invisibly, slipped into his hand