Vol. You'll repent anon.
Hul. If I do ill; but not for suffering ill.
Vol. Your stoical apathy will relent, I know.
This priest I caught within a shady grove,
Devoutly kneeling at a broad oak's foot.
Now he awaits your doom.
Cæs. What God adore you?
Hul. Him whom all should serve.
Cæs. What's the moon?
Hul. Night's sun.
Cæs. What's night?
Hul. A foil to glorify the day.
Cæs. What most compendious way to happiness?