Par. Whither?
Thais. Don’t you see
The Captain?
Par. Yes, I see him—to my sorrow.
The presents from my master wait your pleasure.
Thra. Why do we stop thus? wherefore go not hence? (Angrily.)
Par. Beseech you, Captain, let us, with your leave,
Produce our presents, treat, and parley with her!
Thra. Fine gifts, I warrant you, compar’d with mine!
Par. They’ll answer for themselves—Ho, there! within!