Go, take her.--I can never move thine heart.

THANATOS (_mocking_).
To slay the doomed?--Nay; I will do my part.

APOLLO.
No. To keep death for them that linger late.

THANATOS (_still mocking_).
'Twould please thee, so?... I owe thee homage great.

APOLLO.
Ah, then she may yet ... she may yet grow old?

THANATOS (_with a laugh_).
No!... I too have my rights, and them I hold.

APOLLO.
'Tis but one life thou gainest either-wise.

THANATOS.
When young souls die, the richer is my prize.

APOLLO.
Old, with great riches they will bury her.

THANATOS.
Fie on thee, fie! Thou rich-man's lawgiver!

APOLLO.