Pel. Friend, wouldst make
My old knees creak to earth? I sue to you
Be soft as prudence. Shall we now be false
To our dearly tended hope—united Greece?
Now when the fact is on us, and our dream
Walks in the day? I beg you clear your heart
Of selfish fire that eats the very pattern
Of love's new world. It is ungraced, perverse
As altar flame that would devour the shrine
'Twas lit to honor.
Ste. Think of Greece? What's Greece,
When my own daughter pairs with——
Pel. Nay, but mine.
When you are bitterest set, say to yourself
She's of my loins, and when more softly taken,
Then call her yours. But openly be constant
To a father's right in her, and proudly sire
Her honors. And 's for Biades, he's but
A brocket yet, his antlers barely bossed.
My oath upon it, your reshaping hand
Firm-cupped about his overweening spring,
Will be a second cradle where he'll grow
Fair to your fashion. Think on that.
Ste. I will.
There's comfort. Ay, so, so. The terms of peace
Make him a Spartan. Pyrrha stood with me
Stout-willed on that.
Pel. Then whist! You trust your wife?
Ste. You speak to Stesilaus.
Pel. Eh, I know
You've her in hand. My Sachinessa now— [Sighs]
But she loves Phania best. That locks her tongue.
And, friend, do you not see the high all-ruling Will
Has moved behind our own?
Ste. I think it so.
Our aim achieves its heaven, though we smart
Beneath it. To the outer glozing fame
That now attires us splendent, we may add
Inmost applause. When we exchanged our babes,
'Twas for this end and day, and had we held
To our first intent and taken our own again,
Our hope had died unfruitive. 'Twas there
That deity came in and shifted us
To th' true sybillic course.
Pel. Who dares say else?
We'll wear the issue as a sacred robe
Fallen on us from Olympus.
Ste. Which our wisdom
Fits comely to us. Forget it not, such gift
Had been withheld from minds too poor to be
The heirs of Zeus.