endless way, and seeking her Tyrians in a land forlorn – even as raving Pentheus sees the Bacchants’ bands, and a double sun and two-fold Thebes rise to view; or as when Agamemnon’s son, Orestes, hounded by the Furies, flees from his mother, who is armed with brands and black serpents, while at the doorway crouch avenging Fiends.

So when, outworn with anguish, she caught the madness and resolved to die, in her own heart she determines the time and manner, and accosts her sorrowful sister, with mien that veils her plan and on her brow a cloudless hope. “Sister mine, I have found a way – wish your sister joy – to return him to me or release me from my love for him.

Near Ocean’s bound and the setting sun lies Ethiopia, farthest of lands, where