Act Iii.

SCENE I. A sea-port in Sicilia.

Enter CLEOMENES and DION.

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

Dion. I shall report, For most it caught me, the celestial habits, Methinks I so should term them, and the reverence 5 Of the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice! How ceremonious, solemn and unearthly It was i' the offering!

Cleo. But of all, the burst And the ear-deafening voice o' the oracle, Kin to Jove's thunder, so surprised my sense, 10 That I was nothing.

Dion. If the event o' the journey 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.

Cleo. Great Apollo Turn all to the best! These proclamations, 15 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 seal'd up, Shall the contents discover, something rare 20 Even then will rush to knowledge. Go: fresh horses! And gracious be the issue! [Exeunt.

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