ButtheGodsthemselveswerejealous，forourblisswasovergreat，Andtheybroughtonusdivision，andthehorroroftheirHate，AndtheysettheSnakebetweenus，andthetwiningcoilsofFate。
Andtheysaid，“Goforthandseekeachother’sface，andonlyfindShadowsofthatfaceyelongfor，dreamsofdaysleftfarbehind，Lovetheshadowsandbelovedwithlovesthatwaverasthewind。“
Oncemorethesweetsingingdiedaway，butastheWanderergraspedhisswordandfixedthebroadshielduponhisarmherememberedthedreamofMeriamuntheQueen，whichhadbeentoldhimbyReithePriest。Forinthatdreamtwainwhohadsinnedweremadethree，andthroughmanydeathsandlivesmustseekeachother’sface。Andnowitseemedthattheburdenofthesongwastheburdenofthedream。
Thenhethoughtnomoreondreams，orsongs，oromens，butonlyonthedeadlyfoethatstoodbeforehimwrappedindarkness，andonHelen，inwhosearmsheyetshouldlie，forsotheGoddesshadsworntohiminsea-girtIthaca。Hespokenoword，henamednoGod，butsprangforwardasalionspringsfromhisbedofreeds；and，lo！hisbucklerclashedagainstshieldsthatbarredtheway，andinvisiblearmsseizedhimtohurlhimback。ButnoweaklingwastheWanderer，thustobepushedasidebymagic，butthestoutestmanleftaliveinthewholeworldnowthatAias，Telamon’sson，wasdead。Thepriestswonderedastheysawhowhegavebackneverastep，forallthemightoftheWardensoftheGate，butliftedhisshortswordandheweddownsoterriblythatfireleaptfromtheairwheretheshortswordfell，thegoodshortswordofEuryalusthePh？acian。Thencametheclashingoftheswords，andfromallthegoldenarmourthatoncethegod-likePariswore，ay，frombuckler，helm，andgreaves，andbreastplatethesparksstreamedupastheystreamfromtheanvilofthesmithwhenhesmitesgreatblowsonswordsmadewhitewithfire。
Swiftashailfelltheblowsoftheunseenbladesuponthegoldenarmour，buthewhoworeittooknoharm，norwasitsomuchasmarkedwiththedintoftheswords。SowhilethepriestswonderedatthismiracletheviewlessWardensoftheGatesmoteattheWanderer，andtheWanderersmoteatthemagain。Thenofasuddenheknewthis，thattheywhobarredthepathweregone，fornomoreblowsfell，andhisswordonlycuttheair。