The hapless king himself, who with thin voice
Poured forth his wrongs; and many more I saw,
Who suffered pain: the tearful shadows penned
In mansions of austere Persephonè.
From that old prophet’s tongue of warning weird
Still for myself in the end I gathered hope,
And treasured it, but from thy tongue fear ill.
Ath. Yet shouldst thou cherish all the words he spake.
Ul. I ask not now what shall be, but what is.
Beneath yon roof what passes? Thou canst give