[Enter Cleomenes and Dion.]

Cleo. The climate's delicate, the air most sweet,

Fertile the [isle], the temple much surpassing

The common praise it bears.

Dion. [I shall report,]

[For most it] caught me, the celestial habits,

Methinks I so should term them, and the reverence

Of the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice!

How ceremonious, solemn and unearthly

It was i' the offering!