[A bad omen arises from the flames of the Altar.
Omnes. Avert this omen, Apis!
Cas. [Rises.] Accursed be thou, grass-eating foddered god!
Accursed thy temple! more accursed thy priests!
The gods are theirs, not ours; and when we pray
For happy omens, we their price must pay.
In vain at shrines the ungiving suppliant stands;
This 'tis to make a vow with empty hands:
Fat offerings are the priesthood's only care;