Behold, we are righteous utterly.
The man whose hand is clean, no wrath
From us shall follow: down his path
He goeth from all evil free.
But whoso slays and hides withal
His red hand, swift before his eyes
True witness for the dead we rise:
We are with him to the end of all.
[Being now in position they begin the Binding Song.
Some Furies.
Mother, who didst bear a being
Dread to the eyeless and the seeing,
Night, my Mother!
Leto's Child would wrong me, tear
From my clutch this trembling hare,
My doomèd prey: he bore to slay,
And shall he not the cleansing bear,
He, none other?
Chorus.
But our sacrifice to bind,
Lo, the music that we wind,
How it dazeth and amazeth
And the will it maketh blind,
As it moves without a lyre
To the throb of my desire;
'Tis a chain about the brain,
'Tis a wasting of mankind.
Other Furies.
Thus hath Fate, through weal and woe,
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