Myrrha.
My lord, shall I not——?
Julian.
Away with you, woman!
Helena.
How could you let yourself be conquered by him, you great-limbed, bronzed barbarian? He cannot conquer women. How I loathe this impotent virtue.
Julian.
Stand apart, all of you! Not so near, Oribases! I myself will watch the Princess.
Helena.
Art thou wroth with me, thou glorious one? Gallus is dead. Beheaded. What a blow that must have been! Be not jealous, oh my first and last? Burn Gallus in hell fire;—it was none but thou, thou, thou——!