Cho. But gloriously to die—for man is grace, sure!
Kas. Ah, sire, for thee and for thy noble children!
Cho. But what thing is it? What fear turns thee backwards?
Kas. Alas, alas!
Cho. Why this "alas"? if 't is no spirit's loathing ...
Kas. Slaughter blood-dripping does the household smell of!
Cho. How else? This scent is of hearth-sacrifices.
Kas. Such kind of steam as from a tomb is proper!
Cho. No Surian honor to the House thou speak'st of!