| |
Tiresias CHOOSE 1 the darkest part o’ the grove; | |
| Such as ghosts at noonday love. | |
| Dig a trench, and dig it nigh | |
| Where the bones of Laius lie: | |
| Altars raised of turf or stone | 5 |
| Will the infernal powers have none.— | |
| Answer me, if this be done. | |
| Chorus. ’Tis done. | |
| |
| Tir. Is the sacrifice made fit? | |
| Draw her backward to the pit; | 10 |
| Draw the barren heifer back: | |
| Barren let her be, and black. | |
| Cut the curlèd hair that grows | |
| Full betwixt her horns and brows. | |
| And turn your faces from the sun.— | 15 |
| Answer me, if this be done. | |
| Chor. ’Tis done. | |
| |
| Tir. Pour in blood, and blood-like wine, | |
| To mother Earth and Proserpine; | |
| Mingle milk into the stream; | 20 |
| Feast the ghosts that love the steam: | |
| Snatch a brand from funeral pile; | |
| Toss it in to make them boil: | |
| And turn your face from the sun.— | |
| Answer me, if all be done. | 25 |
| Chor. All is done. | |
