Begin thy butchery, stain the altar of the goddess with blood, for she will visit thy iniquity.HermioneBarbarian creature, hardened in impudence, wilt thou brave death itself? Still will I find speedy means to make thee quit this seat of thy free-will; such a bait have I to lure thee with. But I will hide my meaning, which the event itself shall soon declare. Yes, keep thy seat, for I will make thee rise, though molten lead is holding thee there, before Achilles’ son, thy trusted champion, arrive. Exit Hermione.AndromacheMy trusted champion, yes! how strange it is, that, though some god hath devised cures for mortals against the venom of reptiles, no man ever yet hath discovered aught to cure a woman’s venom, which is far worse than viper’s sting or scorching flame; so terrible a curse are we to mankind.

ChorusAh! what sorrows did the son of Zeus and Maia herald,