A rebel girl I loved forsook me late,
Bit with the Galilean pestilence.
It rages, and it rots our best: be warned.
I am no spy; I will befriend thee. Come.
Didymus. Thou livest nigh?
Cratidas. Not far. Where yon sole gem
Swings from the new moon’s girdle, is my hearth,
’Twixt grove and grove: a solitary place,
Since Theodora went. Hark!...
Didymus. Sound of horror!