Ch. Come, come—we follow—we obey thee gladly—
We long to learn, goddess, what thou canst teach.
[Exeunt Th. and Chor.
Deid. Rejoice, she bids me. Ah me, tho’ all heaven spake,
I should weep bitterly. My tears, my shame
Will never leave me. Never now, nevermore
Can I find credit of grace, nor as a rock
Stand ’twixt my maids and evil; even not deserving
My father’s smile. Why honour we the gods,
Who reck not of our honour? How hath she,