The Mortal Gods and Other Plays Part 32

_Ste._ Ever Sparta's friend!

_Pel._ And friend of peace. The age no more can bear The locked alarum of our rivalling States.

We must the groaning tussle bring to end, Or ends the world.

_Lys._ 'Twas wisdom's cue you gave us,-- To say we had our Sparta's sovereign word For Athens' terms.

_Pel._ Ay, hold your emba.s.sage Unstrictured, friends. In that lies flattery Each lord will take to himself and thereon feed A grace which will, in sort, come back to you.

What hour was fixed for answer? I lost that.

_Lys._ The last hour of the sun.

_Pel._ The crier stood Wrong side of my good ear, and I'll not twist To set the gossips nudging me to th' grave, Robbed in a shrug of twenty grizzled years.

[_Looks about the garden_]

Where's Biades? He's always trailing here, Save in the tick of need. I'd have him bid The amba.s.sadors lie at my house. Lysander, You'll be my suitor to your comrades? Say We've heart and room for all.

_Lys._ For all, my lord?

_Pel._ And more!

[_Exit Lysander_]

_Ste._ My Sparta thanks you, Pelagon.

_Pel._ Nay, such an honor shall not pa.s.s me, sir.

Now where is Biades?

_Ste._ Your nephew, friend?

_Pel._ Ay, Stesilaus. Bar my blood in him, He'll fasten on your heart.

_Ste._ Report has been Too dear his friend. What buzz about a youth Of twenty-five! Sir, Attica is mad To give him captains.h.i.+p. In Sparta now, The spurring callant would be kept in ranks, And yoked with Prudence till he learned her jog.

_Pel._ In ranks! I see him! Well, just in your ear, He sweeps a pretty curvet. With my wife His slave, and Phania neck-deep in love, He rides the very comb of my poor house.

If you would say to him, hold here or there, I'd take it not amiss. But I do love him.

And now a bout with th' cook. The pest sends word A double score of sudden guests are all He'll have at table. Mine own table, sir!

Ha, there is Biades! He'll wait upon you.

Pray touch him as I've hinted. But no word About our daughters, friend. We'll let that lie.

[_Exit upper left. Enter Biades upper right_]

_Bia._ Most n.o.ble Stesilaus, my heart greets you!

_Ste._ Greeting to Biades, whom Athens makes Her general!

_Bia._ Would, my lord, this dignity Were laid on senior years. Your Sparta's way Is best,--to keep the cool, meridian bays From youth-flushed brows. My moist and charmed eyes Spoke inward to my soul when they beheld The amba.s.sadors before the council, each With staff unneeded, and gray locks that seemed As wisdom's holy place.

_Ste._ You sat with us?

I did not mark you there.

_Bia._ I kept in modest shadow, Which is youth's fairest mantle,--though my rank Moves back for none. But, sir, the Spartan elders!

Ah, might I see more men in Athens who Thus honor age, and age that honors men!

_Ste._ Breathe that into your shrines.

_Bia._ The G.o.ds who smile On folly young, must weep when reverend years And wisdom part. Mayhap you've noticed, sir, In my good uncle here ... a falling off.

I would not speak but that I know your eyes Can not keep curtain when the blabbing sun Makes it no secret.

_Ste._ Somewhat I have seen.

_Bia._ Somewhat will grow to much ere you take leave.

_Ste._ I fear it, Biades.

_Bia._ And yet, my lord, Time has not carried him ahead of you More years than half a score.

_Ste._ Tis t'other way.

I'm elder by that much.

_Bia._ Not you, my lord? [_Muses flatteringly_]

The Spartan way is best. Was 't Pelagon Led you to say you had full power to treat With Athens?

_Ste._ It was he.

_Bia._ I thought it. [_Sighs_] Sir, In the Athenian mind there dwells a child No length of days can age. We do not grow As Spartans. But our vanity's no dwarf.

Tops with the highest, you've some cause to know.

_Ste._ What of 't? Unlatch! unlatch!

_Bia._ The people, sir, Always our rearward urge, knowing you've power To a.s.sent to all they ask, will ask for more Than all.

_Ste._ Think'st that?

_Bia._ In your brave time you've met Athenians of the best. Didst ever know One modest?--slow to ask for what he thought His own?--or what he might by mere demand Make his?

_Ste._ They are well stomached,--true. No doubt They'll press us far.

_Bia._ They will. And if refused,-- Well, they are children,--and must bite and scratch.

With strutting rage, may pelt you out of Athens.

But why not say you are in part empowered.

And must return to Sparta with the terms Before a vowed conclusion?

_Ste._ Late for that, Young sir. The tongue we used to the Council Must serve in the a.s.sembly. We have said We have full power.

_Bia._ To treat, not to a.s.sent.

That was your word.

_Ste._ Hmm! Now the cloud is off The dunce's script, and I read clear why you At twenty-five have Athens' voice to sail 'Gainst Syracuse.