[Speusippus and companions pass from garden to street and off left]
Ha, what Greekish stranger there?
Phil. Speusippus, sir.
Diony. Methought his acid look
Had turned my purple cloak a pauperish yellow.
Phil. Aristocles best knows him. An Athenian.
Aris. [Who is slowly going into palace by smaller entrance,
front, turns] And worthy of his birth. He is my friend,
And brings me Dion's love.
Diony. That name again!