The pious impious wretch at length decreed, To please her brothers’ ghosts, her son should bleed; And when the funeral flames began to rise, “Receive,” she said, “a sister’s sacrifice. A mother’s bowels burn:” high in her hand, Thus while she spoke, she held the fatal brand, Then thrice before the kindled pile she bow’d, And the three furies thrice invoked aloud: “Come, come, revenging sisters, come and view A sister paying her dead brothers’ due: A crime I punish, and a crime commit; But blood for blood, and death for death, is fit: Great crimes must be with greater crimes repaid, And second funerals on the former laid. Let the whole household in one ruin fall, And may Diana’s curse o’ertake us all! Shall Fate to happy Oeneus still allow One son, while Thestius stands deprived of two? Better three lost than one unpunish’d go. Take then, dear ghosts (while yet admitted new In hell you wait my duty), take your due: A costly offering on your tomb is laid, When, with my blood, the price of yours is paid.