Soph. (turning). Good Heav’n have mercy on us! Stilpho!
Chrem. No.
Soph. Deny your own name?
Chrem. (in a low voice). This way, Sophrona!——
—A little further from that door!—this way!——
And never call me by that name, I charge you.
Soph. What, ar’n’t you then the man you said you was? (Aloud.)
Chrem. Hist! hist!
Soph. What makes you fear those doors so much?
Chrem. I have a fury of a wife within: