"_Procles._ But that I know 'twill gall thee, Thou poor and talking pedant of the school Of dull Pythagoras, I'd let thee make Conjecture from thy senses: But, in hope 'Twill stir your solemn anger, learn from me, We have ta'en possession of the citadel. _Damon._ Patience, ye good gods! a moment's patience, That these too ready hands may not enforce The desperate precept of my rising heart,-- Thou most contemptible and meanest tool That ever tyrant used!" Procles in a rage calls on his soldiers to advance and hew their upbraider in pieces. At this moment Pythias enters, sees how affairs stand, and, hastening to the side of his friend, calls out,-- "Back! back! I say. He hath his armor on,-- I am his sword, shield, helm; I but enclose Myself, and my own heart, and heart's blood, when I stand before him thus. _Damon._ False-hearted cravens! We are but two,--my Pythias, my halved heart!-- My Pythias, and myself! but dare come on, Ye hirelings of a tyrant! dare advance A foot, or raise an arm, or bend a brow, And ye shall learn what two such arms can do Amongst a thousand of you." A brief altercation follows, and the mob are appeased and depart, leaving the two friends alone together. They proceed to unbosom themselves, fondly communing with each other, alike concerning the interests of the State and their private relations, especially the approaching marriage of Pythias with the beautiful Calanthe. The unstudied ease and loving confidence of the dialogue, in voice and manner, plainly revealing the history of love that joined their souls, their cherished luxury of interior trust and surrender to each other, formed an artistic and most pleasing contrast to the hot and rough passages which had preceded. And when the fair Calanthe herself breaks in upon them, and Damon, unbending still more from his senatorial absorption and philosophic solemnity, changes his affectionate familiarity with Pythias into a sporting playfulness with her, the colloquial lightness and tender banter were a delightful bit of skill and nature, carrying the previous contrast to a still higher pitch. It was a lifting and lighting of the scene as gracious and sweet as sunshine smiling on flowers where the tempest had been frowning on rocks.