The Mortal Gods and Other Plays - LightNovelsOnl.com
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_Syb._ Hist, Biades!
She's yonder.
[_They look middle left, where Pyrrha appears_]
_Pha._ I like the garden best when 't wears Pale Cybele's gown. Apollo makes it harsh In black and gold--Ah, Pyrrha! You have found Our blossomy corner. Welcome to it, and know My neighbor, Sybaris,--and Biades.
_Pyrr._ I greet you, friends of Athens.
_Pha._ Will you sit?
_Bia._ [_Who has not removed his gaze from her since her entrance_]
A walk! That was your wish.
I'll show the paths.
_Syb._ Nay, here's a seat.
_Bia._ There's Artystone's rose, Brought from the Mysian stream----
_Pha._ She'll stay with us.
_Bia._ The ivory cup of Isis, where each night Her one tear falls,--and flowers whose sisters blow In walled Ecbatana.
_Syb._ Come, sit by me, Dear Pyrrha.
_Pyrr._ I would see the garden.
_Syb._ [_Rising_] Would?
We'll guide you then.
_Pha._ Ay, who would dawdle here?
_Bia._ But rest a moment, Pyrrha. I mind me now, That from this spot the eye may best o'ersweep The full design. Yon ma.s.s of planes----
_Pyrr._ I'll walk Alone. [_Moves off, lower right_]
_Syb._ Well!
_Pha._ Said I not?
_Syb._ Does nothing that She's asked! And stares as though a woman's eyes Were made to see with, when their chiefest use Is not to see!
_Pha._ Crude as her Spartan rocks!
_Bia._ I'll follow.
_Syb._ Nay, she'd _walk alone_!
_Bia._ She's Athens' guest.
I'll not be rude, whatever lack in her Provokes me to it.
_Pha._ Nor shall I, by all The grace in th' world!
_Syb._ You shame us, Biades.
We'll go with you.
[_Each taken an arm of Biades as he goes right. Pelagon enters, upper left_]
_Pel._ Daughter, this way!
[_Phania returns reluctantly. The others pa.s.s off, right_]
_Pel._ My chick,-- Nay, I'll be brief. I know young feet would flock.
_Pha._ O, father dear, I'd please you first! [_Kissing him_]
_Pel._ Well, well!...
You've seen Lord Stesilaus?
_Pha._ Just a peek.
_Pel._ Nay, he's no bear.
_Pha._ He'll bite though. I know that.
_Pel._ Now, Phania, now! I have a reason, miss, A most dear reason you should win the love Of Stesilaus.
_Pha._ Love!
_Pel._ I mean, my duck, A father's gentle love.
_Pha._ But, daddy, he's---- So tall!
_Pel._ He has a heart, my daughter.
_Pha._ Fum!
Are you so sure?
_Pel._ Find it the shortest way.
Remember he's your--hmm!--remember--hmm!-- That he's a man--as I am--and his pride But April frost. Be as he were myself----
_Pha._ As you? Oh, dear! [_Under his arm_]
And must I cuddle so?
Nay, that's for my own fa-fa!
_Pel._ Little Phania!
I'll lose my pipit,--lose my bonny bird!
_Pha._ Lose me? O, never, daddy, never! I'm Your pipsey, wipsey, umpsey, ownty own!
