Dionysus.
The kind barbarians are with us. They will fight at our side.
Hephæstus.
Yes, let us fight and die.
Zeus.
You have no forces to collect, my sons. We cannot take toll of the blood of the barbarians. We cannot resist, we can but submit and withdraw.... The ships fleet closer. They are like monstrous fishes of living silver. I confess this is not what I anticipated. This is not what my faint dream seemed to indicate. What inspires the implacable destroyer to pursue us, and with this imposing and miraculous navy, to the shore of that harmless exile in which we were endeavouring to forget his existence, I know not. But let us at least preserve that dignity which
has survived our deity. Whatever may be now in store for us—if the worst of all things be now hurrying to complete our annihilation—let us meet it with simplicity. Let us meet it with an even mind.
Circe.
Oh, see! what are those filaments of blue and violet and grassy green which flutter in the cordage of the three ships?
Phœbus.