Thraso. Death! what mischief now?
Thraso. ’Sdeath! what mischief now?
I ne’er so much as saw this face before.
Why bursts he forth with such alacrity?
[ SCENE IX.]
Enter Chærea at another part of the stage.
Chær. Lives there, my countrymen, a happier man
To-day than I?—Not one.—For on my head
The gods have plainly emptied all their store,
On whom they’ve pour’d a flood of bliss at once.