ANDROMACHE.
15
Andromache.
Cannot thy hungry jealousy hold its peace? 240
Hermione.
Why? Stands not this right first with women ever?
Andromache.
With whom it is for honour: else, 'tis shame.
Hermione.
We live not under laws barbaric here.
Andromache.
There, even as here, the foul deed brings disgrace.
Hermione.
Keen-witted! keen!—yet shalt thou surely die. 245
Andromache.
Seest thou the eye of Thetis turned on thee?
Hermione.
In hate of thy land for Achilles' blood.
Andromache.
Helen slew him, not I; thy mother—thine!
Hermione.
And wilt thou dare yet deeper prick mine hurt?
Andromache.
Lo, I am silent, and I curb my mouth. 250
