Cho. She seems to be good-nosed, the stranger: dog-like,
She snuffs indeed the victims she will find there.
Kas. How! how!
By the witnesses here I am certain now!
These children bewailing their slaughters—flesh dressed in the fire
And devoured by their sire!
Cho. Ay, we have heard of thy soothsaying glory,
Doubtless: but prophets none are we in scent of!
Kas. Ah, gods, what ever does she meditate?
What this new anguish great?