122
(Stabs herself.)
(The women close round supporting her and lay her on steps right.)
Mysta:
Silent the Sibyl, seal'd the speaking spring.
Theonöe (faintly):
Sibyl no longer, but a woman now,
I drink no more the spring Oracular,
Engarlanded with the prophetic bay,
(Flavian enters during speech from left with a sword in his hand. He moves as if stunned towards Theonöe.)
No more a slave constrainéd of my King,
Death manumits me from my monarch now,
Who held my soul in thrall, but not my heart.
For careless am I that to-morrow's Sun
