I see. Stop still, island. Come up again from the deep, and drift below the surface no more. Remain in a fixed position, and receive, most lucky of islands, my brother’s two children, the most beautiful of all the gods. And you, Tritons, give Leto passage to the island, and let all be calm. And the moment the babes are born, they’ll pursue the serpent that’s now maddening Leto with fright, and exact vengeance for their mother. And you, Iris, go and tell Zeus that all is ready. Delos is stationary. Let Leto come now and have her children.