Cadmus.
And in all Thebes shall no man dance but we?
Teiresias.
Aye, Thebes is blinded. Thou and I can see.
Cadmus.
'Tis weary waiting; hold my hand, friend; so.
Teiresias.
Lo, there is mine. So linkèd let us go.
Cadmus.
Shall things of dust the Gods' dark ways despise?