My royal father's son!
Diony. His sword is mine!
[Seizes her in a rage, threatening her with his weapon; then slowly releases her and she sinks to bench by pillar of the colonnade. Lords assemble, some talking excitedly but in undertone, others cool and scoffing. Speusippus and friends enter, taking inconspicuous place. Ocrastes keeps in shade, motionless and unnoticed.]
A lord. Ha, Calisthenes, you need not come to bite at this bait. 'Tis a dainty morsel and only goldfish are allowed to nibble.
An old lord. I mislike this marriage. 'Twill bring us woe, let it reach Dion's ears.
Another. Ay, wars beyond our guess will come of it.
Young lord. The admiral against �gisthus!
Second young lord. Heraclides? He is much wived already.
Third young lord. The easier to take another.