Aicra.
One yard.
Crassus.
‘You always meck me?
Auicra.
Pity of my youtht
I swerve not from, you stumble at, the truth,
Crassus.
1 like not jests. This is a serious journey.
ALICIA.
Why did you make 2 mocker your attorney?
The way to Rome leads through the Apennines.
Bacchus has horns beneath the crown of vines.
If you fear horns, make some polite excuse
Net to invoke him by the name Zagreust
A Faun (Passing among the trees).
‘Ye thought me a lamb
With a crown of thorns:
Lam royal, a ram
With death in my horns.
So mild and soft
And feminine,
H#