16 ARGONAUTAE
MEDEA.
To thy knees, false hound,
Fawning to snap!
ACASTUS.
What misery, pale slaves,
Lament ye?
CHORUS.
Ah! the ill omen! Ah, the day!
Alcestis hath her sire in error slain.
ACASTUS.
Sister!
ALCESTIS.
O brother, bear thine anger back!
ACASTUS.
Speak!
ALCESTIS.
Ah, the prophecy! Ai Ai!
CHORUS.
Ai Ai!
ACASTUS.
What folly masks what wickedness? Speak on!
ALCESTIS.
I cannot speak.
JASON.
Speak thou, Medea!