I here have borne your dying mother

10  Come forth sons of the Curse come forth. see the death of

Myratana

His sons ran from their gates. & saw their aged parents stand

And thus the eldest son of Tiriel raisd his mighty voice

Old man unworthy to be calld. the father of Tiriels race

For evry one of those thy wrinkles. each of those grey hairs

Are cruel as death. & as obdurate as the devouring pit

Why should thy sons care for thy curses thou accursed man

Were we not slaves till we rebeld. Who cares for Tiriels curse

His blessing was a cruel curse. His curse may be a blessing

He ceast the aged man raisd up his right hand to the heavens

20  His left supported Myratana [living/ ?shriecking] shrinking in

pangs of death

The orbs of his large eyes he opend. & thus his voice went forth

Serpents not sons. wreathing around the bones of Tiriel

Ye worms of death feasting upon your aged parents flesh

Listen & hear your mothers groans. No more accursed Sons

She bears. she groans not at the birth of Heuxos or Yuva

These are the groans of death ye serpents. These are the groans of death

Nourished with milk ye serpents. nourishd with mothers tears & cares

Look at my eyes blind as the orbless scull among the stones

Look at my bald head. Hark listen ye serpents [all] listen

30 What Myratana. What my wife. O Soul O Spirit O fire

What Myratana. art thou dead. Look here ye serpents look

The serpents sprung from her own bowels have draind her dry as this

Curse on your ruthless heads. for I will bury her even here

So saying he began to dig a grave with his aged hands

But Heuxos calld a son of Zazel. to dig their mother a grave

Old cruelty desist & let us dig a grave for thee

Thou hast refusd our charity thou hast refusd our food

Thou hast refusd our clothes our beds our houses for thy dwelling

Chusing to wander like a Son of Zazel in the rocks

40  Why dost thou curse. is not the curse now come upon your head

Was it not you enslavd the sons of Zazel. & they have cursd

And now you feel it. Dig a grave & let us bury our mother

There take the body. cursed sons. & may the heavens rain wrath

As thick as northern fogs. around your gates. to choke you up

That you may lie as now your mother lies. like dogs. cast out

The stink.