Act 3 Scene 1


Scene 1

[Enter Cleomenes and Dion.]

 The climate’s delicate, the air most sweet,
 Fertile the isle, the temple much surpassing
 The common praise it bears.

DION   I shall report,
[5]  For most it caught me, the celestial habits—
 Methinks I so should term them—and the reverence
 Of the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice,
 How ceremonious, solemn, and unearthly
 It was i’ th’ off’ring!

[10]CLEOMENES   But of all, the burst
 And the ear-deaf’ning voice o’ th’ oracle,
 Kin to Jove’s thunder, so surprised my sense
 That I was nothing.

DION   If th’ event o’ th’ journey
[15]  Prove as successful to the Queen—O, be ’t so!—
 As it hath been to us rare, pleasant, speedy,
 The time is worth the use on ’t.

CLEOMENES   Great Apollo
 Turn all to th’ best! These proclamations,
[20]  So forcing faults upon Hermione,
 I little like.

DION   The violent carriage of it
 Will clear or end the business when the oracle,

 Thus by Apollo’s great divine sealed up,
[25]  Shall the contents discover. Something rare
 Even then will rush to knowledge. Go. Fresh horses;
 And gracious be the issue.
[They exit.]

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