Ah, not too soon I spiced her cup. The way
Grows perilous, and I must mount with care
To my high seat, lest I should rise to fall;
For though the path to crowns be long and slant,
There's no way down but by a precipice.
[Enter Theano bearing an urn which she places on table by cup]
The. You're faithful, sir. [Bends over Nauresta]
Her brow is calm again.
Phil. Now were I ill 'twould quickly make me well
To have so fair a face above my bed.