Cass. The day is come: small gain for me in flight.
Chor. Know then thou sufferest with a heart full brave.
Cass. Such words as these the happy never hear.
Chor. Yet mortal man may welcome noble death.
Cass. [Shrinking back from opening the door.] Woe's me for thee and thy brave sons, my father![[375]]
Chor. What cometh now? What fear oppresseth thee?
Cass. [Again going to the door and then shuddering in another burst of frenzy.] Fie on't, fie!
Chor. Whence comes this “Fie?” unless from mind that loathes?
Cass. The house is tainted with the scent of death.
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