D.

            All that thou sufferest,
                God seeth: Oh, not so sore
            Waste nor weep for the breast
                That was thine of yore.

Voice (within).

            Virgin of Righteousness,
            Virgin of hallowed Troth,
            Ye marked me when with an oath
            I bound him; mark no less
            That oath's end. Give me to see
            Him and his bride, who sought
            My grief when I wronged her not,
            Broken in misery,
[Pg 12]            And all her house. . . . O God,
            My mother's home, and the dim
            Shore that I left for him,
            And the voice of my brother's blood. . . .

Nurse.

   Oh, wild words! Did ye hear her cry
          To them that guard man's faith forsworn,
          Themis and Zeus? . . . This wrath new-born
   Shall make mad workings ere it die.

Chorus.

Other Women.

A.

           Would she but come to seek
               Our faces, that love her well,
               And take to her heart the spell
                     Of words that speak?

B.

           Alas for the heavy hate
               And anger that burneth ever!
           Would it but now abate,
           Ah God, I love her yet.
               And surely my love's endeavour
                     Shall fail not here.

C.

           Go: from that chamber drear
                  Forth