Hath she made up her mind to marry him?
PRIESTESS.
To marry him who stabb'd her Sinnatus.
You will not easily make me credit that.
PHOEBE.
Ask her.
_Enter_ CAMMA _as Priestess (in front of the curtains_).
PRIESTESS.
You will not marry Synorix?
CAMMA.
My girl, I am the bride of Death, and only
Marry the dead.
PRIESTESS.
Not Synorix then?
CAMMA.
My girl,
At times this oracle of great Artemis
Has no more power than other oracles
To speak directly.
PHOEBE.
Will you speak to him,
The messenger from Synorix who waits
Before the Temple?
CAMMA.
Why not? Let him enter.
[_Comes forward on to step by tripod.
Enter a_ MESSENGER.
MESSENGER (_kneels_).
Greeting and health from Synorix! More than once
You have refused his hand. When last I saw you,
You all but yielded. He entreats you now
For your last answer. When he struck at Sinnatus--
As I have many a time declared to you--
He knew not at the moment who had fasten'd
About his throat--he begs you to forget it.
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