Bia. They're unprepared.
The captains off their ships, the guards in doubt,
And oarsmen half asleep. But let them come
Far as they dare, and if they dare too far
From Persia's shelter, the Athenian fleet
Will close like jaws about them.
Pyrr. [Sits, with sudden hopelessness] You have won,
My lord.
Bia. I have.
Pyrr. What will you do with me?
Bia. I'll wed thee, sweet.
Pyrr. I'll not——
Bia. Yes, love, you will.
There is a dagger hangs in Phelas' shop,
Shall be your bridal gift. A prizèd blade
Of coppered gold, hued like a battle morning.
Smooth-cheeked as Artemis, although inlaid
With pictured tale. A captured Amazon,
Wrought palely in alloy,—a silvered fear
On th' bronzen flush of courage,—bows before
Her conqueror, a knight who gently bends
As I do now——
Pyrr. [Thrusting him off] No! Never! I'll not trust
Your dolphin nature! Long as fish have fins
You'll sport in every sea! Go—go to Phania!
Bia. [Turns angrily from her] Ay, by my gods that I have found again,
I shall wed none but an Athenian maid!
[Pyrrha swoons. He rushes to her]
Her heart is still. O, curse my double-tongue!
She's dead—she's dead! She takes the Spartan way—
To die, not yield! Oh, Pyrrha, Pyrrha, Pyrrha! [Rushes about distractedly]
I will not live! I'll leap into the sea!
Pyrr. [On her elbow, as he reaches door]
You might catch cold. [He stares at her. She sits up]
Is this your grace in love?
Your pictured ease, with no dissuasive line?