Caput

1 4 |    he bade them:~“Stay not your hands, O Fateful Sisters,
2 7 |    once the place you call your natal town,~Or else, by
3 7 |    the land or race to own your shaky head?~Speak out. Oh,
4 7 |  one who held court before your temple all day long during
5 10| and one which is certainly your own, you are going to be
6 12|    anapests:   “Pour forth your tears, lift up woful voices;~
7 12|  cities Cretaean.~Smite on your breasts, ye shysters forsaken,~
8 13|  here, you murderer of all your friends? Come to the court