Syb. Blind? Well, you've no eye to lend.
Pha. His words were all for me, and through my heart
Were sifted to your ears.
Syb. For you, my dear?
Now what a gosling 'tis!
Pha. Oh! Ask him then!
Syb. You'll beat that bush. I have no doubt in cover.
[Biades returns with Creon]
Cre. You'll not go out?
Bia. No, friend.
Cre. I warn you, sir!
It is your reputation left i' the street
That knocks for you.
Bia. 'Twill care for itself.