Ath. Think’st thou of peace? Hadst thou but hence been stayed
So long as shall suffice yon dying moon
To launch her young bark on the western sea,
Then had Penelope no more been thine.
Ul. Thou saidst that she was faithful.
Ath.She withstands
The urgence of the wooers day by day;
But ’gainst herself, to save thy house from loss,
Deeming thee dead indeed, now falls to yield.
Ul. Vengeance upon them! Grant me but thine aid,