Resound on every side throughout the palace.
Cly. He had no power to escape, or to resist,
Entangled in the gorgeous robe that shone
Fatally rich. I struck him twice, and twice
He groaned, then died. A third time as he lay
I gored him with a wound; a grateful present
To the stern god that in the realms below
Reigns o'er the dead.
There let him take his seat,
He lay, and spouting from his wounds a stream