For hand after hand she outstretches,
At life as she reaches!
Cho. Nor yet I 've gone with thee! for—after riddles—
Now, in blind oracles, I feel resourceless.
Kas. Eh, eh, papai, papai,
What this, I espy?
Some net of Haides undoubtedly!
Nay, rather, the snare
Is she who has share
In his bed, who takes part in the murder there!