[Enter Brentio, rear]
Bren. My lord, the people in the banquet hall are drinking all the cellars dry. You'd weep to see it, sir. [Sees Theano and Ocrastes. Looks in bewilderment from one to the other, claps hand to his purse and runs out]
Dion. The slave's beset.
Oc. He's drunk, my lord.
Dion. I had forgot Heraclides. [Going] Ocrastes, come. We'll not so soon be parted. You to my wife, Theano. [Exeunt Dion and Ocrastes, rear; Theano through curtains, left]
Aris. [Alone] Dion, how oft hast sworn I was thy dearest,
Yet go to happiness while I droop here
As to my grave. Nor dost thou need me more
Than quickest life its century-buried dead.
Yet one is yon, behind those curtains close,