Do not belye your courage.
Cleor. Heaven help me, I have none.
Crat. Then dare you be a slave to base Egyptians?
For that must be, if you outlive your husband.
Cleor. I think, I durst, to save myself from death.
Crat. Then, as a slave, you durst be ravished too?
Cleor. The Gods forbid!
Crat. The Gods cannot forbid it
By any way but death.
Cleor. Then I dare die.