His rough locks wreathed with hoary poplar leaves.
[Lichas takes the robe and departs upon his mission.]
I will myself within the palace go
And pray the mother of relentless love.580
[To her Aetolian attendants.]
Do ye, who from my father's house have come,
Bewail the sad misfortunes of your queen.
[Exit.]
Chorus of Aetolian women: We weep for thee, O lady dear,
And for thy couch dishonored—we,