Pyrr. —the rude shame
The Athenian put upon the ambassadors,
And mine own eyes bore him in lowest semblance,
Demeaned from manhood, his dishonor wrapped
In purple cost that left it yet more naked.
I swear he shall not honored lead our wars!
If our gray heroes fail us, we have dames
To choose from,—need not go to Athens!
First Ephor. This speaks! The victory's won where courage makes
Such stout provision.
Pyrr. If I fail, my lords,
Then gods are mongers and their favors sell,
Denying honest prayers.
Lys. Come, Biades.
Art ready?
Bia. Ay, long past!
First Ephor. Your places then.
Ste. Delay you! Biades, with modesty
Unlooked for, but most fit, you gave up claim
To Dianessa.——
Bia. Nay, 'twas but an offer
Whose bounty met refusal.
Ste. I'll accept it
In Pyrrha's name.
Bia. So prudent against loss?
This caution, sir, gives me a victor's heart.