Pel. What, Sachinessa, what?
Sac. Our Phania's married to Alcanor.
Pel. Eh?
Sac. Now are you pleased? Now is your cruelty
Full-fed, or must it glut again?
Pel. My sweet——
Sac. You'll meddle with high Zeus! Have you enough?
Pel. Oh, Sachinessa!
Sac. Brother and sister bound
In an abhorrent union that will drive
Their shades forever from Elysian ground!
Nay, even Hades will make fast her gates
'Gainst such offenders, innocently vile!
Archippe, speak to that unbending man,
Half author of this shame! I'd thin his beard
If Heaven had mocked me with his long, smug face
For husband! Ugh! The whiskered horse!
Arc. Dumb, sir?
You've no defence?—no master argument
To prove your wisdom's never off the road
To Zeus' gate? Not once in all your life,
Although your daughter's to her brother wedded?
Ste. 'Tis well. I can not doubt the gods.