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194 Converted thus into kind deities, Eumenides henceforth, instead of Furies, they are led forth in cheerful procession to their temples under the Acropolis. Pallas goes in front to show them to their dwelling; behind them the twelve judges follow, and last a train of women march with blazing torches. Up the broad steps that lead from the orchestra to the stage, along the whole front of the theatre, the stately procession moves, and passes slowly out of sight to go to the crypts in whose gloomy sanctity these daughters of the night are worshipped. And as they go, the escort-hymn is sung:—

Night's hoary children, venerable train,

With friendly escort leave the hallowed fane.

Rustics, glad shouts of triumph raise.

In ancient crypts remote from light,

Victims await you and the hallowed rite.

People, ring out your notes of praise.

With promise to this land of blessings rare,

Down the steep path ye awful beings wend,

Rejoicing in the torch light's dazzling glare.

Your cries of jubilee ring out amain.