Menas. Joy to the noble fathers!
Sweet saviors of our city!
Ste. Sweet!
Menas. What says
Our Stesilaus?
Pel. Ahem! The Spartan joy
Is ever dumb. But see him stirred to heart
That by a gift from out his very life,
His dearest daughter, peace is home in Athens,
And's forced no more to camp and cadge and beg
At our shut gates. Yet it goes hard to part
Wi' the fairest branch on's tree.
Menas. In Biades
He finds a treasured son.
Ste. By a mermaid's shoes,
A precious son!
Menas. How, sir?
Pel. Indeed, indeed,
A jewel of a son! Will you, friend Menas,
Float with the senators, and bring to shore
Report of how they drift,—what currents favor
And what now counter us?
Menas. I'll go, my lords,
To hear the latest honor they conclude
Best caps your fame, and bring it in a word. [Exit Menas]
Ste. I had two minds to throw the truth in 's face
And see him strangle on it.