EL. Thine be such flattery. ’Tis not my way.

CHR. Sure, to be wrecked by rashness is not well.

EL. Let me be wrecked in ’venging my own sire.

CHR. I trust his pardon for my helplessness.

EL. Such talk hath commendation from the vile.

CHR. Wilt thou not listen? Wilt thou ne’er be ruled?

[page 142][403-432] EL. No; not by thee! Let me not sink so low.

CHR. Then I will hie me on mine errand straight.

EL. Stay; whither art bound? For whom to spend those gifts?

CHR. Sent by my mother to my father’s tomb
To pour libations to him.