[Handing her to a seat.]
Good dame, your years
Entitle you to ease!... So, now; your tale!
The Old Slave Woman.
Long years gone by ... Oh, years agone, when Decius was Cæsar, monster bloodthirsty....
Martinus.
Horns, tail, had he, cleft foot, and spat he flames?
And munched and crunched the bones of little boys?
The Old Slave Woman.
My mother’s mother told me not. She had it from her mother’s mother. She from her mother’s mother. She....