OLD WOMAN. He swore he would never leave me, as long as I lived.
CHREMYLUS. Aye, rightly; but he thinks you are no longer alive.[799]
OLD WOMAN. Ah! friend, I am pining away with grief.
CHREMYLUS. You are rotting away, it seems to me.
OLD WOMAN. I have grown so thin, I could slip through a ring.
CHREMYLUS. Yes, if 'twere as large as the hoop of a sieve.
OLD WOMAN. But here is the youth, the cause of my complaint; he looks as though he were going to a festival.
CHREMYLUS. Yes, if his chaplet and his torch are any guides.
YOUTH. Greeting to you.
OLD WOMAN. What does he say?