The worst of all, I say, are made-up words.
Ch. Ah! ah! enough, alas!
Ne'er, ne'er did I presume such cruel words
Would reach my ears, nor thus unsightly
And intolerable hurts, sufferings, fears with a two-edged
Goad would chill my soul;
Alas! alas! fate! fate!
I shudder, seeing the state of Io.
Pr. Beforehand sigh'st thou, and art full of fears,
Hold till the rest also thou learn'st.