Messenger.
The strangers both are gone, and we beguiled,
By some dark plot of Agamemnon's child:
Fled from the land! And on a barque of Greece
They bear the heaven-sent shape of Artemis.
Leader.
Thy tale is past belief.—Go, swiftly on,
And find the King. He is but newly gone.
Messenger.
Where went he? He must know of what has passed!
Leader.
I know not where he went. But follow fast And seek him. Thou wilt light on him ere long.
Messenger.
See there! The treason of a woman's tongue!
Ye are all in the plot, I warrant ye!