Phocion.
What would you with the Emperor, old mother?
The Old Woman.
I would have my son again. Help me! My son! Hilarion! Oh, they have taken him from me! They burst into our house—and then they took him away!
One of the Citizens.
[To Phocion.] Who is this woman?
Phocion.
What? Know you not the widow Publia,—the psalm-singer?
Citizen.
Ah, yes, yes, yes!