“Æole, thou dost yield too soon,” cried Electra, in her annoyance. “What are twenty prophecies to thy getting away!”
“Ah, it is Electra again,” sneered Atlano, “the lady of the tongue.”
“I bless heaven for my tongue if it doth wage for the right. So may all women. Only cowards or tyrants need fear the tongues of honest women; and of their fear they rail.”
“And thou, it seemeth, hast had the hope of sharing in this ‘little sail.’ Will this help thee to it?”
“The gods will help me.”
“The gods, it seemeth, are thy very good friends.” And, oh his mocking tone!
“Well would it be were they thy friends, King Atlano.”
Her eyes held more meaning even than her solemn tones. As if to ignore both, he turned to address Æole just as an attendant came from behind the trellis with the message that the galleys were in readiness. Then the ladies Rica and Elna who had gone within, reappeared, robed for the trip and bearing the queen’s wraps as well as those of Æole and Electra.
When Atlana’s mantle was placed about her, she addressed the king: “Now are we ready to go to the galleys—if it needeth to see them off—if it needeth to go with them a little. Say but the word, Atlano.”
He replied not. She continued, “Come. And thou, Æole, walk on this side. Electra, thou wilt follow with Hellen. Rica and Elna, ye will lead.—Where is Azu?”