Who the Author of his fate.

Pr.—In Hoder’s hand the Hero’s doom:

His brother sends him to the tomb.

Now my weary lips I close:

Leave me, leave me to repose.

O.—Prophetess, my spell obey!

Once again arise, and say,

Who th’ Avenger of his guilt,

By whom shall Hoder’s blood be spilt?

Pr.—In the caverns of the west,