Pel. You'll leave her here?
Ste. It will content me. I'll
Surrender both.
Pel. What? Both! Nay, your free heart
Shall not outdo my own.
Ste. You'll give me Pyrrha?
Pel. Friend of my soul, I will!
Ste. [Moved] Thanks, Pelagon.
She's dearer than my son. More like my blood.
Alcanor is too soft and woman-lipped.
Too much Archippe in him from his birth,
Nor blows could drive it out.
Pel. And mine own eyes
Have seen a cooing match between himself
And Phania.
Ste. Zeus! His sister!
Pel. While we speak,
The fated pair are yonder——
Ste. I'll get him home!
And leave the witch to you! Had I a doubt
To hold me back, this turn would be
Decision's point. She must stay here.