_Pha._ O!--then--why--all is well! You're n.o.ble, sir!

My father will approve you.

_Alc._ Hast a father?

And art not magic-born? Then I perceive I must go back and find my earthly wits.

_Pha._ Nay, he is Pelagon, your father's friend.

_Alc._ You're Phania, then!

_Pha._ [_Giving her hand_] I am.

_Alc._ No more than this?

No kiss?

_Pha._ [_Very shy_] You've had it, sir.

_Alc._ A phantom one!

'Twas in a dream, as two ghost-lovers meet On an Elysian path. Too cold for earth!

_Pha._ [_Touching her cheek_] Nay, it is warm here yet.

[_He takes her in his arms, and they withdraw lower right. Pelagon enters, upper right, in time to witness the embrace_]

_Pel._ [_Rousing from his horror_] Her brother! G.o.ds!

Whip me all hagglers! We have stood so long At door of our confession that this shame Gets by us. Phania and Alcanor! Oh!

No shuffling now! When Stesilaus comes, The tale must out!

[_Enter Pyrrha, middle left. She crosses, pa.s.sing Pelagon, who retreats rear, unseen by her. She loiters right_]

_Pel._ Here's opportunity At beck. I'll follow. [_Advances_] Ahem! My daughter,----

_Pyrr._ Sir?

You seek your daughter? I will look this way.

[_Goes farther right_]

_Pel._ I must advance, and take her Spartan guard With gentleness. My love, 'tis you I seek.

_Pyrr._ [_Stiffly_] You'd speak to me?

_Pel._ My little Pyrrha,----

_Pyrr._ Little!

_Pel._ I think of Phania. In my heart you both Hold undivided place. Shall we not chat a bit, My Pyrrha?

_Pyrr._ Kitchen maids do that, not men Of State.

_Pel._ Nay, there's a time when one may cast The civic garment and take household ease In modest robe.

_Pyrr._ [_Aside_] A swaddling band would fit him!

_Pel._ You will not hear me?

_Pyrr._ I wait upon you, sir.

For if your hostship I forget, and leave The fees of grace unpaid, I yet must know You are my father's friend. Say what you will, My lord.

_Pel._ That word undears me! Let your tongue Breach colder custom and give me a name That brings me near in love as Stesilaus.

Wilt call me father, Pyrrha?

_Pyrr._ [_Retreating_] You, my lord?

_Pel._ They've frozen her, poor child! Must blow more warm.

Indeed a father. Call me what I am, For so I love you, Pyrrha.

_Pyrr._ Is it thus The Athens sages talk?

_Pel._ Ay, we're not cut Of ice as Spartans are. Here your poor heart Shall know what sun is, and the Springs you've lost, Betrayed without a bloom in frigid Sparta, In Athens shall blow fair. You are amazed, My sweet, but by this kiss----

_Pyrr._ [_Giving him a blow_] You goose-eyed goat!

I strike not at your years, Lord Pelagon, But at your mind which has not come of age And gives me elder right.

[_Exit, middle left. While Pelagon is recovering, enter Stesilaus, upper right_]

_Pel._ [_Welcoming the interruption_] You, Stesilaus?

So soon, friend, from the a.s.sembly?

_Ste._ Late, sir, late!

More haste had been more prudence.

_Pel._ Why, why, why!

_Ste._ Where is your b.u.t.tery nephew, Biades?

Who slips to the seat of question and melts all Into one potch of folly!

_Pel._ But I'd know----

_Ste._ Why I am here, not there? A crater mouth That calls itself a people hissed eruption Into my face, and without bow I set My back to 't, sir!

_Pel._ Blame me for all! I knew I should not stay behind! The G.o.ds do know I am the voice of Athens. 'Tis no pride That speaks bare truth. I'll go----

_Ste._ Tuh, tuh!

A word with Biades----

_Pel._ But not too sharp, My friend. He is of weight----

_Ste._ No sharper than My stick! Then I set out for Sparta, where The very ground knows Stesilaus walks!

_Pel._ And Phania goes with you?