Æsch. May all
The Gods desert me, Sir, but I do love you,
More than my eyes!
Micio. Than her?
Æsch. As well.
Micio. That’s much.
Æsch. But where is that Milesian?
Micio. Gone:
Vanish’d: on board the ship.—But why d’ye loiter?
Æsch. Ah, Sir, you rather go, and pray the Gods;