Arc. Come with me!
Sac. But such a bladder!
He'd top a flood into the second world
And wet but half his skin!
Arc. Nay, Sachinessa,
Our suit is won. No words! We'll haste once more
To Philon's shrine. For this dear joy I'll bend
A willing knee. Come, come!
[Draws her away, upper right]
Pel. [Capering] Could reel it now
Like school-boy 'scaped a whipping!
Ste. Shame! Your years
Will blush. [Goes left] Now Biades, and then farewell!
Pel. Ah, there's my mourning cloak! I'll go at once
To th' Council, and——
Ste. Vain labor, Pelagon.
Pel. Nay, I will stir them!
[Exit, upper right. Biades enters left. He is arrayed in a purple gown with long train held up by his monkey. A peacock fan swings from a girdle, and jewels dangle from his ears. He carries a scroll from which he reads as he walks, tittering over the matter. Stesilaus watches him curiously, then amazedly recognizes him]
Ste. Biades! Is 't he?
May eyes report it to a brain unshaken?
... Ho, sir,—or madam?