_Aris._ Deep, deep, my thoughts, dive to some bed of death In my wide-regioned self, nor come again Like sea-return�d corpse, with livid grin And foul, accreted horror, to beg anew For burial. [_Dion comes in and walks slowly across to Aristocles_] You'll see her now? _Dion._ See whom? _Aris._ Your wife. _Dion._ My wife? Have I a wife? _Aris._ She waits Your summons by Diana's altar. _Dion._ Ah! So near? _Aris._ Theano waits with her. _Dion._ My niece? She's safe? _Aris._ By miracle. The unknown knight Bore her from out Phillistus' burning house. _Dion._ Still swells our debt to him. _Aris._ You'll see her now? _Dion._ See whom, my friend? _Aris._ Your wife, sir,--Aratea. _Dion._ When you repeat the name I half believe I have a wife. Your voice was ever true, Nor fed me with the rifled husks of speech. ... Was she not fair? _Aris._ My lord? _Dion._ How fair, think you? _Aris._ Who, sir, could say? Such beauty scorns all words And writes itself but in the wondering eye. _Dion._ You shift. You shift. Your tongue is beauty's pencil. Did heaven lack a goddess you might limn A fairer than a Venus for the place. Speak on. Tell me her sum to the last doit. The balance of a hair--a smile unborn-- I'd not strike off. _Aris._ [_Coldly_] You know her worth, my lord. _Dion._ Nay, the appraising eye when fixed too near The thing it loves distorts the sweet proportion. You can adjust your gaze, take stand to bring Her beauty to perfection's single-point. _Aris._ What matter? All is yours. _Dion._ Ah, if 'twere mine I'd care not, happy then to know 'twas mine. But when we've lost we're moved to question, sir, Else are we crippled twice in our estate, Once in the loss, again to know it not. _Aris._ Strange speech, my lord. I hardly know your tongue. _Dion._ You can not understand, for you've no wife. No more have I. But once.... Yes, yes, I'll see her. Wilt bring her here? _Aris._ I bring her? Here? To you? _Dion._ If 'tis too sad a service---- _Aris._ Nay, I go. [_Exit_] _Dion._ I am forgot in his great pity of her. [_Enter Calippus_] _Cal._ Lord Dion, Heraclides begs to see you. _Dion._ Is he alone? _Cal._ �gisthus comes with him. _Dion._ Bid them into the banquet hall. _Cal._ My lord, You will not see them? _Dion._ Ay, there's naught to fear. Tell them I'll join them soon. [_Exit Calippus_]