EL. You kill me.
CH. 4. How?
EL. To breathe
A hope for one beneath
So clearly sunk in death,
’Tis to afflict me more
Already pining sore.
[page 154] CH. 5. [One in a woman’s toils]I 2 [837-870]
[Was tangled,] buried by her glittering coils,
Who now beneath—
EL. Ah woe!
CH. 6. Rules with a spirit unimpaired and strong.
EL. O dreadful!
CH. 7. Dreadful was the wrong.
EL. But she was quelled.
CH. 8. Ay.