Nurse.—
Peace, let be!
The Gods drive home their gift. Soon shall ye see
Our mistress come forth to your midst again.
Leader.—
Redeemed from death?
Nurse.—
Yea, for she lies not slain.
Leader.—
Thy words sound strange!—But living, thou hast said?
Nurse.—
Peace, let be!
The Gods drive home their gift. Soon shall ye see
Our mistress come forth to your midst again.
Leader.—
Redeemed from death?
Nurse.—
Yea, for she lies not slain.
Leader.—
Thy words sound strange!—But living, thou hast said?