And the foe too; and in the moon's broad light,
His silk tiara and his flowing hair
Make him a mark too royal. Every arrow
Is pointed at the fair hair and fair features,
And the broad fillet which crowns both.
Myr.Ye Gods,
Who fulminate o'er my father's land, protect him!
Were you sent by the King?
Alt.By Salemenes,210
Who sent me privily upon this charge,