'But you forget--you forget, she is not married to him!' 'Married to him?
A freedwoman?
No; thank Freya! he has not fallen as low as that, at least: and never shall, if I kill the witch with my own hands.

A freedwoman!' Poor Philammon! And he had been told but that morning that he was a slave.

He hid his face in his hands, and burst into an agony of tears.
'Come, come,' said the testy warrior, softened at once.

'Woman's tears don't matter, but somehow I never could bear to make a man cry.

When you are cool, and have learnt common courtesy, we'll talk more about this.
So! Hush; enough is enough.