Page:Atalanta in Calydon - a tragedy (IA atalantaincalydo00swinrich).pdf/92

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ATALANTA IN CALYDON.

MESSENGER.

Slain by thy son’s hand; is that saying so hard?


ALTHÆA.

Our time is come upon us: it is here.


CHORUS.

O miserable, and spoiled at thine own hand.


ALTHÆA.

Wert thou not called Meleager from this womb?


CHORUS.

A grievous huntsman hath it bred to thee.


ALTHÆA.

Wert thou born fire, and shalt thou not devour?


CHORUS.

The fire thou madest, will it consume even thee?


ALTHÆA.

My dreams are fallen upon me; burn thou too.


CHORUS.

Not without God are visions born and die.


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