Why dost thou fright me with thy brandished scourge,
And shake thy writhing serpents in my face?
Why in mine inmost marrow dost thou rouse
These gnawing hunger pangs? My very heart
Is parched with burning thirst, and leaping flames
Dart scorching through my vitals—Oh, desist;
I yield me to thy will.100
The Fury: Then fix this thirst,
This maddening thirst in all thy kindred here;
So, e'en as thou, may they be driven on