Pyrr. Love's burning deeds do ever lie before him.
He ne'er gets past to make them history.
Bia. O, hear my oath! Thy birthland shall be mine!
Pyrr. Whist, Biades! The gods might hear you too.
Bia. I'll swear it in the ears of Zeus!
Pyrr. By what
Irreverenced deity wilt break it?
Bia. Ah,
By none, fair Pyrrha! I'll stake my golden part
In love's eternity, no land's more dear
To my own heart than that which gave you birth.
Pyrr. Ay, for on Spartan soil the laurel grows
Which you would pluck from drenched defeat and set
Among your bays. So dear as that!
[A clamor is heard in street]
Bia. I'll woo
In better time. Till then let this pure gem
Speak for me on your breast. 'Tis like my love,
No sudden thing. For as this captive fire
Dreamed in the heart of earth and could not wake
Till beauty born in man sent down his kiss,
So lay my love in Life from her first breath,
Deep as unconsciousness, till at your step
It knew itself. You scorn the half-hour flame,
But in your coming like an instant dawn
Find all its brevity. Ay, Pyrrha, sweet!
And let my token lie, a patient prayer,
Upon your bosom. Heaven should have its sun!
[Drops the locket into the folds of her dress. She casts it to the ground]