He is rousing himself right up: and then,
Murder on murder heaping anew,
He will revel in blood your city through!
Cho. O Zeus, why hast, with such unmeasured hate,
Hated thy son, whelmed in this sea of woes?
Her. Ha,—
In breath indeed I am—see things I ought—
Æther, and earth, and these the sunbeam-shafts!
But then—some billow and strange whirl of sense
I have fallen into! and breathings hot I breathe—