Clea. The Persian is at watch,
Waiting the signal——
Bia. Toad!
Clea. If pardon came,
Two cressets set——
Bia. I'll shred him!
Clea. At the left——
Just here, my lord, would start the Persian ships
For Athens.
Bia. Oh!
Clea. But if three cressets burnt,
Then he would hold to Sparta.
Hie. Three?
Clea. Three, sir.
Look in his bosom if you'd read the proof.
His pardon's there.
Bia. By the altars I have lost,
By Sparta's yet unwon, I swear he lies!