Bia. In your brave time you've met
Athenians of the best. Didst ever know
One modest?—slow to ask for what he thought
His own?—or what he might by mere demand
Make his?
Ste. They are well stomached,—true. No doubt
They'll press us far.
Bia. They will. And if refused,—
Well, they are children,—and must bite and scratch.
With strutting rage, may pelt you out of Athens.
But why not say you are in part empowered.
And must return to Sparta with the terms
Before a vowed conclusion?
Ste. Late for that,
Young sir. The tongue we used to the Council
Must serve in the Assembly. We have said
We have full power.
Bia. To treat, not to assent.
That was your word.
Ste. Hmm! Now the cloud is off
The dunce's script, and I read clear why you
At twenty-five have Athens' voice to sail
'Gainst Syracuse.
[Re-enter Pelagon]
Bia. No word unto my uncle!
Ste. My brain will serve.
Pel. They've come,—your comrades,—all!
If honor now were substance, my poor walls
Would groaningly unroof and beg the sky
For room to embrace it! Go you, Biades.
Repeat my welcome, with increase of grace
Your tongue is rich in.
[Exit Biades, upper left]
Now the full time comes.
We'll speak of that that's centre of our hearts,—
Our daughters, friend. This is the hour that ends
A watch of twenty years.