had planned for her—to be the mate of an ape-man, his
Of death, his right, (Ah, wretch!) was reft away.
Angered at Death the witch, and at the pause
Conceded by the fates, with living snake
Scourges the moveless corse; and on the dead
She barks through fissures gaping to her song,
Breaking the silence of their gloomy home:
"Tisiphone, Megaera, heed ye not?
Flies not this wretched soul before your whips