Bia. O, Pyrrha, peace! Let us be done with cheat
And mockery!
Pyrr. [Rising] My heart on that, my lord!
Bia. Own thou art mine! My world when sunsets die!
My breath of meadows lying past the moon!
Compassionate this earth, and in my soul
Fix thee its centre. Say thou'lt come!
Pyrr. My lord,
Could I be sure....
Bia. Ah, Pyrrha, there's no light
Falls from thine eye that does not sway me like
A bee in rose wind-shaken. I am thine.
There'll be no battle, but a nuptial feast
With three great armies for our brothered guests.
Your land and mine are one. Give me your hand.
Pyrr. I will. For Sparta's sake.
Bia. And love's!
Pyrr. [Giving her hand] And love's.
[Curtain]