Bia. Pyrrha lives in Sparta.
Howe'er I set my feet, love turned them here.
Which way I bent some tingèd thought of thee
Crept as a secret sun to every sense
And made the hidden threads of being blush
Like coral boughs when Aphrodite's foot
Is on the wave.
Pyrr. Athenian, what canst hope
From Stesilaus' daughter?
Bia. I ask naught.
But had a gem of hers that hourly cried
To clasp its mistress, and to bring it thus,
With Death a looker-on, I thought might make
The peasant service shine so sovranly
That even her royal and offended eyes
Might gently entertain it.
Pyrr. Deck the bark
Of yon shag ilex and 'twill wear your trinket
With the same grace and thanks.
Bia. Thy grace is hers
Who walked unrobed from hands of the high gods
Grown jealous of the beauty they had made.
Not this, nor any jewel may adorn it,
Though swartest pebbles might grow ruby proud,
And rubies throb with breath to be so worn.
And for thy thanks, I have not come this way
To ask for them. Keep them for one so poor
He lets his heart for hire.
[Puts locket slowly under his tunic]
And yet my ears
Fed on a sigh when I was hidden there.
Pyrr. Who is so strong as never to have sighed?
That secret moment was my weakest too.
I'm now a Spartan, and my father's name
Is Stesilaus. You may know it, sir,
Who wert of Athens, but whose country now
Is so much ground as you may beg of foes,
And that, Zeus help, they'll measure without grudge.
You're not so tall your grave would scant a field,
Or make a garden less.
[Sounds of approach across bridge, lower right]
Bia. Does Fate come noisy-footed?
I thought she crept, and loved the jungle-leap.
Pyrr. Hide, sir! I'll be as secret as these shrubs,
And not reveal you sooner. With the night
You may steal out of Sparta.
Bia. I'll go out winged
With Spartan ships, and honor as a bride
Shall sail with me!