For brother-consort by a brother slain
Must she herself with bloody vengeance stain?
To dark despair the Queen bereft gave way,
Nor heeded anyone who tried to stay
Her grief, until the Pontiff Cay came—
Successor to the Sage who’d borne that name.
Alone with Móo he groaned, “’Tis Aac I see!
His life is ours to take; but this would be
Plate V.