The Mortal Gods and Other Plays - Part 34
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Part 34

_Bia._ Ay, moves A very sylph!

[_Sybaris comes on, lower right_]

_Syb._ A fair day's greeting, friends!

_Bia._ We double it for thee.

_Pha._ My dearest Syb!

Do you turn snail, you keep your house so long?

Why, _hours_, I think!

_Syb._ Indeed!

_Bia._ Where lovers watch The dial, that's an age.

_Pha._ Oh, so!

_Bia._ [_To Phania_] Do I Not know?

_Syb._ An age? Ay, love grows old and fades in 't.

_Bia._ A thousand moons in journey o'er my love Would leave 't no withered hour! By the fair soul Of one who knows me true!

_Syb._ That is no woman.

_Pha._ A pretty oath!

_Syb._ But not a new one, dear.

_Bia._ Plead, Phania, dove! Let her not chide Poor penitence on knee. In two days' time I sail to war, yet stony Sybaris Would break love's wings with doubt--put me aboard With sighs to sink my ship----

_Pha._ Nay, Sybaris!

I'll vow him constant now.

_Syb._ Inconstancy Once stopped for breath, and fools came with a chair.

_Bia._ No thaw in thee? Plead, Phania, sweet! Your lips Are unimpeached where mine too oft have worn Conviction's droop.

_Pha._ Forgive, dear Sybaris!

_Bia._ Ay, be my tongue! Tell her that as the bee Betrays the honey-buds yet hiveward flies, I've left all by-roads for the true home-path.

_Syb._ Then you have trailed all others stale. There's none Left new but that.

_Bia._ Tell her when I have sailed From Athens' eyes into the sun that eve May skirt with blood----

_Pha._ No, no!

_Bia._ --to walk with you The haven's brim, watching the waves that throw The sea-heart there, and know that from my ship Pulses a heart to love's dream-sandalled feet As constant as the sea to Athens' sh.o.r.e.

[_Sybaris moves relentingly nearer. Biades behind Phania, who sits on bench, leans to talk into her ear, but keeps his eyes tenderly on Sybaris_]

Ah, tell her, Phania, sleep is slow to come Where warriors bed, and unforgiven hours Are th.o.r.n.y comrades for an age-long night.

_Syb._ Then here's my hand. Pray Pallas 'tis no fool's!

_Bia._ Yours too, my Phania! In one breath I seal Judge and defender mine! [_Kissing their hands_]

Now with my ship Will prayers go tendant, mending every sail That storm may batter. Typhon, whirl the sea To insurrection,--send her meekest wave To crinkle round the sun, and hiss from Heaven The mariner's port-star,--I shall be safe While I have implorators fair as ye To melt the G.o.ds!

_Syb._ Ah, Biades, thou must Be loved or die. Is 't heart or vanity, That's so insatiate?

_Pha._ Nay, you have forgiven!

_Syb._ But will not coo yet. Is that Creon comes?

[_Looking to upper right_]

You'll meet him, Phania?

_Pha._ He knows his way.

_Bia._ Has news!

I'll pick the pigeon. [_Goes up right_]

_Pha._ O, my Sybaris, Thanks for this generous peace! But who could long Be harsh to Biades?

_Syb._ Such steel's not in me.

I but stood off, a shadow of resolve, To hear him woo me back. His coldest words Are ta'en from music, but when warm in suit, Then music sues to him.

_Pha._ Woo _you_? Didst say _Woo you_? Couldst think--couldst dream--couldst let blind sense So flatter?

_Syb._ Blind? Well, you've no eye to lend.

_Pha._ His words were all for me, and through my heart Were sifted to your ears.

_Syb._ For you, my dear?

Now what a gosling 'tis!

_Pha._ Oh! Ask him then!

_Syb._ You'll beat that bush. I have no doubt in cover.

[_Biades returns with Creon_]

_Cre._ You'll not go out?

_Bia._ No, friend.

_Cre._ I warn you, sir!

It is your reputation left i' the street That knocks for you.

_Bia._ 'Twill care for itself.