Eth. (following him angrily, is restrained by Selene).
The fellow’s crazed—heed not his rhapsodies,
Thou dost not credit him?
Sel.And if I do,
What matters it? Be all he says thou art,
And I will worship thee for being so;
Thou art my faith—whate’er my Ethais does
Is ever hallowed by his doing it;
Thy moral law is mine—for thou art mine:
Rob, and I’ll scoff at honor; kill—I’ll kill;