Phocion
Our love has grown with Athens. On the green Cephissian banks we first discovered it, and that evening on Hymettus when the honey—ah, I see it in your eyes, dear heart—you remember even as I remember. If Athens live——
Lydia
But if you die! If Alexander crush you, kill you! Oh, my Phocion, this struggle against the conqueror is vain. You tempt the Gods. I fear for you and for your hopeless schemes——
Phocion
My schemes! Lydia, what do you know?
Lydia
I suspect only. I feel you planning dangerous things that must take you from me. Those silent footsteps on our causeway in the dusk, the shadows that pass between the pillars, the rising waters—Phocion! your strange deep love of Athens takes no account of me, your little, suffering wife.
Phocion