I. 466-487 (Maya and David)

He spoke, and striking the air fiercely with beating wings, he landed on the shady peak of Parnassus, and took two arrows with opposite effects from his full quiver: one kindles love, the other dispels it. The one that kindles is golden with a sharp glistening print, the one that dispels is blunt with lead beneath its shaft. With the second he transfixed Peneus' daughter, but with the first he wounded Apollo, piercing him to the marrow of his bones; at once he loves the other, but the other flees at the name of the lover and rejoices in the forest lairs and in the spoils of captive beasts, the rival of the virgin Diana: a hair band bound her hair, having been placed in her hair without order. Many sought her, she turned away those who were seeking, she was both not enduring and not experienced in the ways of men- she roams around the pathless forest free of the men, and she does not care (to learn) about Hymen, or love, or marriage. Many times her father said "Oh daughter, you owe me a son-in-law," many times her father said "You owe me, daughter, grandchildren;" As if hating the sin of the nuptial torch that beautiful face had bashfully welled up with redness. Clinging to his shoulder, coaxing him with her arms around his neck she said, "My dearest father, allow me to enjoy being a virgin forever, the father of Diana allowed this before."