_Voices._ We have him here! Bring Stesilaus!

_Arc._ Hold!

I am Archippe. Let me speak.

_Voices._ No mercy!

_Arc._ I ask none, friends. The wife of Stesilaus Is not so much in 's debt she owes him aught On mercy's score.

_Gir._ Then speak.

_Arc._ Is Philon here?

The reverend priest?

_Voices._ He comes! Make way! He's here!

[_Philon comes out_]

_Philon._ Speak first, Archippe. I'll follow you.

_Arc._ My friends, I'm such a one as you do most contemn,-- A woman disobedient to her lord.

But if you judgment give upon that point, Remember that my lord is Stesilaus.

When this my daughter here,--yes, Pyrrha, she,-- Child of my nurturing blood,----

_Voices._ What? What? Your child?

_Amen._ Silence! Speak on, Archippe.

_Arc._ When she lay A morsel cradled, two months' breath in her, Came he, the father, swearing she must go To Sachinessa's breast, and I must take Her Phania to my own,--thereby to serve In some occulted way the future good Of Greece. And all the mercy won from him Was leave to journey with my child to Athens----

_Sac._ But I was not so meek! By Pallas, no!

What--who--was Pelagon, to rob my bosom Of Hera's gift? Who made him greater than The G.o.ds? 'Tis but a girl, he said, to me, A mother! I went to Philon then, the priest Whom Athens honors, and by holy counsel, We did not change our babes, but let our deed Wear face that pleased them, with a heart our own, And home Archippe went with Pyrrha safe, While I in Athens held my Phania close.

And they, fond sires, who knew no difference Between a _girl_ and _girl_, hugged their deep plan And built the phantom of united Greece Upon it.

_Arc._ If those ghostly towers, now fallen, May rise again, it is our act, my lords, Provides them nature's base, and not a dream's.

Condemn us, if you will, as erring wives, But as true mothers give us softer justice.

And if there's scale or balance that can hold Such torturous weight, lay on it all the pain Of lonely years that saw me turn my face From my loved daughter, lest this man of rock Should know her mine and his.

_Pyrr._ Your own, your own, My mother!

_Ste._ So you slip me, dame, And Pyrrha goes with you. But Biades Is under thumb by this same turn. He now Must know himself a Spartan, and shall keep My terms.

_Arc._ Make them full easy. You shall lay No marring hand upon our children's joy As fell on mine.

_Bia._ O, sue for me, Archippe!

Give me my bride! Whatever be her race, Her home is in my arms!

_Arc._ Forgive him, Pyrrha.

Not for his pleading, but for love I know You bear him.

[_Pyrrha permits Biades to embrace her_]

_Alc._ [_To Phania_] Sweet, we know our heaven by Those moments in a h.e.l.l.

_Amen._ Here's feast enough!

_Bia._ But poor old Creon in this rain of porridge Starves for a spoon.

_Cre._ And you, perforce, take one Of Spartan make.

_Bia._ I'm caught. But in love's lap.

I'll swallow Sparta for so dear a bed.

_Menas._ And you need fear no distaff tyranny, My lord. There you are safe. Although your bride Be Hera-limbed, you've proved yourself her Zeus In open match.

_Cre._ How if her moved heart Crept to her arm and slipped the victory Unwon to love?

[_Biades is suddenly embarra.s.sed_]

_Pyrr._ [_With a caress of a.s.surance_] If that were so, my lords, My pride would harbor his, and none should know My secret.

_Ste._ Senators, and men of Athens, Art dumb when justice waits on you for voice?

What censure have you for these rebel wives, And this unsainted priest?

_Amen._ [_To Philon_] You counselled them To their deceit?

_Philon._ I did.

_Amen._ You've no defence?

_Philon._ I need none.

_Ste._ Ha!

_Philon._ Whoso reveres the G.o.ds Draws of their strength in every mortal inch, And in this act I did them reverence, Standing between their wish and meddling wits Of these presumptive men. But pardon them.

For it is shame enough to've thought to make A frislet of their own shake like the locks Of cloud-haired Zeus. For me, my hand is on My altar, and I fear no fall.

_Amen._ No more, Good Philon.

_Philon._ Ay, a word, This morning, sir, I blessed the couple here, knowing them free Of kindred blood,--Alcanor and his Phania.

The strands are doubly woven that now bind Sparta and Athens. Pyrrha and Biades Were first to link them one, and now this pair Unites them o'er.

_Amen._ You hear, my Spartan friends.

What say you? Is it peace?

_Spartans._ Peace be to Athens!

_Amen._ And peace to Sparta! Hearts and altars guard it!

Go, citizens! See that the chariots Glow with new garlands for this double bridal.