Prom. So it is meet the insulter to insult.
Herm. Thou waxest proud, 'twould seem, of this thy doom.
Prom. Wax proud! God grant that I may see my foes
Thus waxing proud, and thee among the rest!
Herm. Dost blame me then for thy calamities?
Prom. In one short sentence—all the Gods I hate,
Who my good turns with evil turns repay.
Herm. Thy words prove thee with no slight madness plagued.
Prom. If to hate foes be madness, mad I am.
Herm. Not one could bear thee wert thou prosperous.