Chor. Woe! woe! Ah woe! ah woe,
For this foul wrong! Thou utterest fearful things;
[*]Thou art too bold and insolent of speech.
[*]May mighty Nile that reared thee turn away
Thy wanton pride and lust
That we behold it not!
Her. I bid you go to yon ship double-prowed,[[262]]
With all your speed. Let no one lag behind;
But little shall my grasp your ringlets spare.
860