1st Maid. Woe, woe: see ’tis the lord Eurymachus,
Slain by a spear.
2nd Maid. Another by the wall.
Beauteous Antinous. Alas, alas!
Pen. Hark how they shout. Alas, my son, my son!
They slay him in the court. His haughty spirit
Proudly rebuking them hath done it. I hear
His speech that taunts them still.
2nd Maid.Shall I look forth?
1st. Ay, to the door and spy—Softly one wing