Doth hold thee now, snatched from my eager arms—
Where thou dost lie; then, though my breast were pierced
With hostile spears, and though my hands with chains
Were bound, and scorching flames begirt my sides,560
Thy mother's faith would ne'er betray her child.
O son, what place, what lot doth hold thee now?
Dost thou with wandering footsteps roam the fields?
Wast thou consumed amid the raging flames?
Hath some rude victor reveled in thy blood?565
Or, by some ravening beast hast thou been slain,