_Aris._ Nay, there's the soul's expense For what o'erdims her fair, majestic visions; But fruits of sheltered vales grow lush for man, And awny grasses droop with sugared grains, And wine, tempered to reason's flow, oft lights The questing mind. _Diony._ Enough! No groaning board That shifts its burden to the spirit! No revel To pleasure Pleasure! Naught but what is meet For fair philosophy's relaxive hour! Adrastus, see 'tis done. Go instantly! [_Exit Adrastus_] Dion, you're for the harbor? _Dion_ With your leave. _Diony._ Which we must grant. Your business is our own. _Oc._ With you, my lord? _Dion._ Most welcome son. Adieu. [_Exeunt Dion and Ocrastes_] _Ara._ Brother, 'tis long since you have visited me. I hold a magnet now in our new friend Will draw you to my house. _Diony._ Nay, I must rob you. The palace is his home. _Ara._ O, not to-day! _Diony._ I'll yield to-day, but not an hour beyond To-morrow's sun. Adieu, Aristocles. Give me thy love; I'll give thee Syracuse. [_Exeunt Dionysius and lords_] _Ara._ [_To Aristocles_] We have some statues in the garden, sir, May please an eye from Athens. Will you come? [_Exeunt Aratea and Aristocles_] _The._ Mother, why look so darkly on Ocrastes? _Nau._ Darkly, my daughter? _The._ Has he not a soul As truly virtuous as his face is fair? _Nau._ True, but he's not for you. Believe it. _The._ Ah! _Nau._ Nor grieve my heart with pleading to know more. Some day I'll speak, but now my bosom's locked With key not in my hands. _The._ Mother, I pray You'll give no more a flattered, willing ear To lord Phillistus' tongue. _Nau._ What do you mean? _The._ I do not know. I am disturbed by him. I scarce can tell you how. _Nau._ To call him friend But proves my loyalty to the loved dead. _The._ I do not doubt my mother! No, no, no! But him I fear. His eye speaks muddily, And echoes not his words. _Nau._ No more of this! You prattle, child. Say that he loves me---- _The._ Ah, Not that! _Nau._ Yet were he villain, is not love The soul's sweet cleanser and redeeming incense? _The._ The serpent and the bee make food and venom Of the same flower's sweetness; so fair minds In love enlarge with merit, while villainy, Sucking such sweet, swells rank and poisonous. _Nau._ No more, my daughter! [_Enter courtiers, right_] _Nau._ Good-day, my lords! You are early from the play. Did it not please you?