Pyrr. They've come from harbor?
Lys. Nay, lurking still, fear-cabled to the land,
Like weanlings round a skirt.
Pyrr. At last a battle!
And Biades is true. The watch is done.
I'm sick of spying, hanging on him like
A doubt with teeth. He leaves this galley then?
Lys. Commands from the Ino, now so brave repaired
She sits her place as though the sea and air
Debated who should claim her, and she no more
Adorns both elements than herself's adorned
By our young admiral.
Pyrr. He is gone? So soon?
Lys. Went, but is here again, and here must stay
These next three hours or more.
Pyrr. Why so, Lysander?
Lys. We sacrifice aboard Thrasyllus' ship,
Where now the captains gather, and the hand
Of one who leads the foe to his fathers' hearth
Would cloud the omen. He must keep apart.
Pyrr. You've told him that?
Lys. We have not dared.