The Mortal Gods and Other Plays - LightNovelsOnl.com
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_Bia._ If this be pledge that binds me yours, Fellow of board and field, I drink long life To our compact. But if death waits here,--to you, O comrade shades, and our good fellows.h.i.+p!
[_Drinks. The Spartans applaud_]
_Ste._ You lean to him, and Sparta topples with you!
_A Young Man._ [_Entering_] Agis is up! He comes! And bears no grudge For a good Greek blow. Says you could give no less.
[_Enter Agis_]
_Bia._ High Zeus, I thank thee! Agis, thou dost live To take my pardon and to give me thine! [_They take hands_]
_Ste._ So soft?
_Lys._ Better than blows.
_Ste._ Ha! Like disease He'll spread the woman till our eyes drop tears Instead of fire. When Spartan eagles moult, They'll go no farther than Athenian owls.
_Lys._ He's valiant.
_Ste._ There's no braver tongue.
_Lys._ And friend To Phernes.
_Ste._ So he says.
_Lys._ Nay, that's well known.
_Ste._ My captain comrades, and ye aged fathers, If ye had seen him strut, a vanity As brainless as the monkey at his heels, With woman velvets making s.l.u.t of wealth Trailing foul dust,--a peac.o.c.k fan at 's cheek Where a soldier's beard should grow, and bangled ears Whose swinging jewels tickled a white neck Soft as a harlot's pillow,--this at time His city laid such honor on his head As would have kept a brave man on his knees For wisdom to uphold it,--had ye looked on this, Ye'd call the weakest maiden from her wheel To lead our wars ere trust to Biades!
_First Ephor._ A picture this,--shakes faith.
_Second Ephor._ We trust too far.
_Ste._ Sirs, had ye seen what I but paint----
_Bia._ My lords, I'll wrestle with the stoutest Spartan youth That makes your wars most dreaded, and these limbs, Now shrunk with fasting, wasted and forsook By Fortune that once fed them as her own, Will prove my right to captain Sparta's host!
_Ste._ Our women could undo you, girl of Athens!
Meet his bold brag with this. One of our maids Shall throw him! Ay! Then he'll betake his shame To any shade will hide it.
_Hie._ Sir, I sue To lay this boast.
_Agis._ My prayer be first, my lords!
_Voices._ A lot! A lot!
_Ste._ Nay, sons, a fall from you Would give him hope to pick his honor up And steal again to favor. He will plead That you, full-fed, met him in famished hour, When Fate hung him with bruises leeching strength, And gave you victory. Let my offer hold.
A maiden to him, and we'll hear no more Of valorous Biades.
_First Ephor._ We are agreed.
_Second Ephor._ Who is our strongest maid?
_Lys._ We've six whose claims Push equal. All in public game have won The bow of Artemis.
_First Ephor._ We'll choose from these.
_Bia._ Olympus, shower me woes! I will not cringe, So they be man's. But save me from a mock That makes misfortune past seem sweet as drops From Hera's healing cup!
_Dia._ A mock? The G.o.ds Have never honored you till now.
_Myr._ See these, My bantling? Arms that made Kalides wear A three months' bruise!
_The._ And these have locked the strength Of Lenon in defeat!
_Dia._ Ask Mirador If he liked well the sandy bed I gave him.
_Nac._ Bethink you now how you'll outcrow disgrace, For you'll be short of breath when you've gone through The brash I'll give you.
_Dia._ Then he'll show his reefed And wattled skin, and say that want of bread O'ercame him, not our valor.
_Art._ Look you, maids!
His hollow eyes do beg some pity of us.
We'll give him yet a chance, and mate him with Our lame Coraina. She's near well again.
Will drop her crutch to be our champion.
_Bia._ Zeus, Behold me patient! Furies, though I lack Some vaunting flesh, the sharpest ill that on My body ravins feeds a spirit that Might meet with Heracles and give him need Of both his arms!
_Dia._ Ha! Better! Maids, his tongue Will fight yet!
_Ste._ Peace! The ephors choose That Dianessa bear this honor off.
She threw strong Mirador, first of the youths, Which puts her o'er the rest.
_First Ephor._ We've else determined That with the fall the Athenian forfeits life.
_Bia._ And if I win, my lords? Since life must pay Defeat, should victory not solicit me With counterpoised prize?
_First Ephor._ We shall accept you Leader and comrade, and give escort fair To bear your suit to Phernes.
_Lys._ More! The maid Shall be your bride, and bind you son and brother To Sparta's love.
_Second Ephor._ You, Stesilaus, a.s.sent?
_Ste._ Since without risk you may pursue your folly, I'll not oppose you.
_First Ephor._ Dianessa, you Abide our will?
_Dia._ And welcome it. 'Twill work Like Mars in me, and make my arm The gallows of his fame. The Athenian lady!
I'd choose a husband among men.
