vening talons wherein it has been {lately}
held. {But} soon, when consciousness returned, tearing her dishevelled
hair like one mourning, and beating her arms in lamentation, stretching
out her hands, she said, "Oh, barbarous {wretch}, for thy dreadful
deeds; oh, cruel {monster}! have neither the requests of my father, with
his affectionate tears, moved thee, nor a regard for my sister, nor my
virgin state, nor the laws of marriage? Thou hast confounded all. I am
become the supplanter of my sister; thou, the husband of both of us.
This punishment was not my due. Why dost thou not take away this life,
that no villany, perfidious {wretch}, may remain {unperpetrated} by
thee? and would that thou hadst done it before thy criminal embraces!
{then} I might have had a shade void of {all} crime. Yet, if the Gods
above behold these things, if the majesty of the Gods be anything; if,
with myself, all things are not come to ruin; one time or other thou
shalt give me satisfaction. I myself, having cast shame aside, will
declare thy deeds. If opportunity is granted me, I will come among the
people; if I shall be kept imprisoned in the woods, I will fill the
woods, and will move the conscious rocks. Let Heaven hear these things,
and the Gods, if there are any in it."

After the wrath of the cruel tyrant was aroused by such words, and his
fear was not less than it, urged on by either cause, he drew the sword,
with which he was girt, from the sheath, and seizing her by the hair,
her arms being bent behind her back, he compelled her to submit to
chains. Philomela was preparing her throat, and, on seeing the sword,
had conceived hopes of her death. He cut away, with his cruel weapon,
her tongue seized with pincers, while giving vent to her indignation,
and constantly calling on the name of her father, and struggling to
speak. The extreme root of the tongue {still} quivers. {The tongue}
itself lies, and faintly murmurs, quivering upon the black earth; and as
the tail of a mangled snake is wont to writhe about, {so} does it throb,
and, as it dies, seeks the feet of its owner. It is said, too, that
often after this crime (I could hardly dare believe it) he satisfied his
lust upon her mutilated body.

He has the effrontery, after such deeds, to return to Progne, who, on
seeing her husband, inquires for her sister; but he heaves feigned
sighs, and tells a fictitious story of her death; and his tears procure
him credit. Progne tears from her