Oh, our secret is well guarded. Yet the least whisper or thoughtless word could so easily betray us. (_Looks round with a moment’s hesitation, then continues in a lower voice._) I only would--that Lydia---- _Phocion_ Lydia! _Lysander_ She is in great favour with Alexander’s queen, Statira. _Phocion_ So much the better! Since she knows nothing there is nothing she can reveal. Alexander seeks to play the generous conqueror. That the wife of Phocion accepts favours that Phocion spurns can only save us from suspicion. The Persian woman helps us without knowing it. And so does Lydia! _Lysander_ You are right, Phocion. The Gods show their will in little things like this. We are under their protection. Yet if word reached Alexander of our gathering in your house to-night---- _Phocion_ Keep your words for later, boy; you waste your strength. How can you hold such idle thoughts? Hellas a Macedonian province! Her ancient liberties crushed! Our last hope dead as soon as born, and no blow struck! _Lysander_ Phocion, forgive me! And, Selene, in yonder rising moon, forgive me too. The Gods protect and help us! _Phocion_ Pallas Athena, give us wisdom to plan and strength to strike. [_LYDIA comes forward from her hiding-place among the columns. The moonlight falls on her. As she moves she notices that it casts a shadow. She hurries. LYSANDER watches her somewhat closely._ Ah, Lydia. _Lydia_ _You_ did not call me, Phocion? It seemed---- _Phocion_ (_Smiling._) Your maidens called you to the bath. It is your bathing hour. _Lydia_ (_To LYSANDER._) Lysander, good-evening! You are fortunate. (_Half laughing, half jealous._) Phocion has more time for his brother than for his wife. _Lysander_ Had I a wife as brave and faithful as my brother has, I should be more fortunate still! These are grave times, good Lydia, for true Athenian men. _Phocion_ Ah, Lydia knows too well, Lysander. But do not detain her now. (_To LYDIA._) I will come later for you, Little Child--an hour at the most. _Lydia_ I am always ready for you, Phocion, and always true. I, too, am an Athenian. _Phocion_ The Gods watch over you! _Lydia_ And over you! [_PHOCION moves to the balustrade and leans over, watching the night. He waits for her to go. LYDIA turns to LYSANDER and speaks low and hurriedly._ You love him, I know, Lysander, and he loves you. _Lysander_ Before he even knew your name, I loved Phocion, (_sternly_) and more than Phocion I love Phocion’s honour. _Lydia_ And so loving him you would urge him--to his death. (_With passion._) You shall not, Lysander; Phocion is mine and he belongs to me. I will hold him fast to this life. A glorious career now lies at Phocion’s feet. _Lysander_ I love Phocion’s honour too well to tempt him to dishonour. _Lydia_