Pyrr. Not dared?
Way, Spartan lions, for the Athenian puppy!
Lys. He's tender with his honor.
Pyrr. His honor!
Lys. Soft!
We shunt all danger if you mew him here
Unwitting of our hand.
Pyrr. I do not wear
Athene's ægis on my jerkin, friend.
Lys. You can divinely drug his vanity
Without immortal aid. Attach him by 't,
For free he'll chafe. Drift with him in such wise
He'll not suspect our rudder.
Pyrr. Ay, more lies.
Lys. Truth is no absolute virtue. 'Tis a vice
If 't takes a screw from safety.
Pyrr. There is law
Higher than Sparta utters. If not so,
What mean our altars, and a kneeling world?
Lys. Hmm! I delay the sacrifice. Dost know
I take my Dianessa? A virgin's hand
Must weave the victim's garland.