CAMMA. Good! mine own dagger driven by Synorix found All good in the true heart of Sinnatus, And quench'd it there for ever. Wise! Life yields to death and wisdom bows to Fate, Is wisest, doing so. Did not this man Speak well? We cannot fight imperial Rome, But he and I are both Galatian-born, And tributary sovereigns, he and I Might teach this Rome--from knowledge of our people-- Where to lay on her tribute--heavily here And lightly there. Might I not live for that, And drown all poor self-passion in the sense Of public good? PHOEBE. I am sure you will not marry him. CAMMA. Are you so sure? I pray you wait and see. [_Shouts (from the distance_), 'Synorix! Synorix!' CAMMA. Synorix, Synorix! So they cried Sinnatus Not so long since--they sicken me. The One Who shifts his policy suffers something, must Accuse himself, excuse himself; the Many Will feel no shame to give themselves the lie. PHOEBE. Most like it was the Roman soldier shouted. CAMMA. Their shield-borne patriot of the morning star Hang'd at mid-day, their traitor of the dawn The clamour'd darling of their afternoon! And that same head they would have play'd at ball with And kick'd it featureless--they now would crown. [_Flourish of trumpets_. _Enter a Galatian_ NOBLEMAN _with crown on a cushion_. NOBLE (_kneels_). Greeting and health from Synorix. He sends you This diadem of the first Galatian Queen, That you may feed your fancy on the glory of it, And join your life this day with his, and wear it Beside him on his throne. He waits your answer. CAMMA. Tell him there is one shadow among the shadows, One ghost of all the ghosts--as yet so new, So strange among them--such an alien there, So much of husband in it still--that if The shout of Synorix and Camma sitting Upon one throne, should reach it, _it_ would rise _He!_... HE, with that red star between the ribs, And my knife there--and blast the king and me, And blanch the crowd with horror. I dare not, sir! Throne him--and then the marriage--ay and tell him That I accept the diadem of Galatia-- [_All are amazed_. Yea, that ye saw me crown myself withal. [_Puts on the crown_. I wait him his crown'd queen. NOBLE. So will I tell him. [_Exit_. Music. Two Priestesses go up the steps before the shrine, draw the curtains on either side (discovering the Goddess), then open the gates and remain on steps, one on either side, and kneel. A priestess goes off and returns with a veil of marriage, then assists Phoebe to veil Camma. At the same time Priestesses enter and stand on either side of the Temple. Camma and all the Priestesses kneel, raise their hands to the Goddess, and bow down. [_Shouts_, 'Synorix! Synorix!' _All rise_. CAMMA. Fling wide the doors, and let the new-made children Of our imperial mother see the show. [_Sunlight pours through the doors_.