The Procession of Prisoners.
Bones racked and riven, flesh seared to a coal,
He shall make whole!
The Procession of Apollo.
Gladsome to bask in the light-sea that laves us!
The Procession of Prisoners.
Blissful to writhe in the blood-death that saves us!
[The processions pass each other during the singing. The crowd in the market-place looks on in dull silence.
SCENE THIRD.
The sacred grove around the temple of Apollo. The portico, supported by columns, and approached by a broad flight of steps, is seen among the trees in the background, on the left.