It seems I too, thus praying, then, love thee not.

PRAXITHEA.

Lov'st thou not life? what wouldst thou do to die?

CHTHONIA.

Well, but not more than all things, love I life.

PRAXITHEA.

And fain wouldst keep it as thine age allows?

CHTHONIA.

Fain would I live, and fain not fear to die.

[Pg 25]

[Pg 25]

PRAXITHEA.

420

That I might bid thee die not! Peace; no more.

CHORUS.

A godlike race of grief the Gods have set

For these to run matched equal, heart with heart.

PRAXITHEA.

Child of the chief of Gods, and maiden crowned,

Queen of these towers and fostress of their king,

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