THANATOS.
Talk on, talk on! Thy threats shall win no bride
From me.--This woman, whatsoe'er betide,
Shall lie in Hades' house. Even at the word
I go to lay upon her hair my sword.
For all whose head this grey sword visiteth
To death are hallowed and the Lords of death.

[THANATOS _goes into the house. Presently, as the day grows lighter,
the_ CHORUS _enters: it consists of Citizens of Pherae, who speak
severally._]


CHORUS.

LEADER.
Quiet, quiet, above, beneath!

SECOND ELDER.
The house of Admetus holds its breath.

THIRD ELDER.
And never a King's friend near,
To tell us either of tears to shed
For Pelias' daughter, crowned and dead;
Or joy, that her eyes are clear.
Bravest, truest of wives is she
That I have seen or the world shall see.

DIVERS CITIZENS, _conversing_.