Chapter 8Scene 2

A room in the women’s apartments of the Palace. Andromeda, Diomede, Praxilla. ANDROMEDA My brother lives then? PRAXILLA Thanks to Tyre, it seems. DIOMEDE Thanks to the wolf who means to eat him later. PRAXILLA You’ll lose your tongue some morning; rule it, girl. DIOMEDE These kings, these politicians, these high masters! These wise blind men! We slaves have eyes at least To look beyond transparency. PRAXILLA Because We stand outside the heated game unmoved By interests, fears and passions. ANDROMEDA He is a wolf, for I have seen his teeth. PRAXILLA Yet must you marry him, my little princess.

Perseus the Deliverer ANDROMEDA What, to be torn in pieces by the teeth? DIOMEDE I think the gods will not allow this marriage. ANDROMEDA I know not what the gods may do: be sure, I’ll not allow it. PRAXILLA Fie, Andromeda! You must obey your parents: ’tis not right, This wilfulness. Why, you’re a child! you think You can oppose the will of mighty monarchs? Be good; obey your father. ANDROMEDA Yes, Praxilla? And if my father bade me take a knife And cut my face and limbs and stab my eyes, Must I do that? PRAXILLA Where are you with your wild fancies? Your father would not bid you do such things. ANDROMEDA Because they’ld hurt me? PRAXILLA Yes. ANDROMEDA It hurts me more To marry Phineus.

Act II, Scene 2 PRAXILLA O you sly logic-splitter! You dialectician, you sunny-curled small sophist, Chop logic with your father. I’m tired of you. Cepheus enters. ANDROMEDA Father, I have been waiting for you. CEPHEUS What! you? I’ll not believe it. You? (caressing her) My rosy Syrian! My five-foot lady! My small queen of Tyre! Yes, you are tired of playing with the ball. You wait for me! ANDROMEDA I was waiting. Here are Two kisses for you. CEPHEUS Oh, now I understand. You dancing rogue, you’re not so free with kisses: I have to pay for them, small cormorant. What is it now? a talking Tyrian doll? Or a strong wooden horse with silken wings To fly up to the gold rims of the moon? ANDROMEDA I will not kiss you if you talk like that. I am a woman now. As if I wanted Such nonsense, father! CEPHEUS Oh, you’re a woman now? Then ’tis a robe from Cos, sandals fur-lined Or belt all silver. Young diplomatist,

Perseus the Deliverer I know you. You keep these rippling showers of gold Upon your head to buy your wishes with. Therefore you packed your small red lips with honey. Well, usurer, what’s the price you want? ANDROMEDA I want, — But father, will you give me what I want? CEPHEUS I’ld give you the bright sun from heaven for plaything To make you happy, girl Andromeda. ANDROMEDA I want the Babylonians who were wrecked In the great ship today, to be my slaves, Father. CEPHEUS Was ever such a perverse witch? To ask the only thing I cannot give! ANDROMEDA Can I not have them, father? CEPHEUS They are Poseidon’s. ANDROMEDA Oh then you love Poseidon more than me! Why should he have them? CEPHEUS Fie, child! the mighty gods Are masters of the earth and sea and heavens, And all that is, is theirs. We are their stewards. But what is once restored into their hands

Act II, Scene 2 Is thenceforth holy: he who even gazes With greedy eye upon divine possessions, Is guilty in Heaven’s sight and may awake A dreadful wrath. These men, Andromeda, Must bleed upon the altar of the God. Speak not of them again: they are devoted. ANDROMEDA Is he a god who eats the flesh of men? PRAXILLA O hush, blasphemer! ANDROMEDA Father, give command, To have Praxilla here boiled for my breakfast. I’ll be a goddess too. CEPHEUS Praxilla! PRAXILLA ’Tis thus She talks. Oh but it gives me a shivering fever Sometimes to hear her. CEPHEUS What mean you, dread gods? Purpose you then the ruin of my house Preparing in my children the offences That must excuse your wrath? Andromeda, My little daughter, speak not like this again, I charge you, no, nor think it. The mighty gods Dwell far above the laws that govern men And are not to be mapped by mortal judgments. It is Poseidon’s will these men should die Upon his altar. ’Tis not to be questioned.

Perseus the Deliverer ANDROMEDA It shall be questioned. Let your God go hungry. CEPHEUS I am amazed! Did you not hear me, child? On the third day from now these men shall die. The same high evening ties you fast with nuptials To Phineus, who shall take you home to Tyre. (aside) On Tyre let the wrath fall, if it must come. ANDROMEDA Father, you’ll understand this once for all, — I will not let the Babylonians die, I will not marry Phineus. CEPHEUS Oh, you will not? Here is a queen, of Tyre and all the world; How mutinous-majestically this smallness Divulges her decrees, making the most Of her five feet of gold and cream and roses! And why will you not marry Phineus, rebel? ANDROMEDA He does not please me. CEPHEUS School your likings, rebel. It is most needful Syria mate with Tyre. And you are Syria. ANDROMEDA Why, father, if you gave me a toy, you’ld ask What toy I like! If you gave me a robe Or vase, you would consult my taste in these! Must I marry any cold-eyed crafty husband

Act II, Scene 2 I do not like? CEPHEUS You do not like! You do not like! Thou silly child, must the high policy Of Princes then be governed by thy likings? ’Tis policy, ’tis kingly policy That made this needful marriage, and it shall not For your spoilt childish likings be unmade. What, you look sullen? what, you frown, virago? Look, if you mutiny, I’ll have you whipped. ANDROMEDA You would not dare. CEPHEUS Not dare! ANDROMEDA Of course you would not. As if I were afraid of you! CEPHEUS You are spoiled, You are spoiled! Your mother spoils you, you wilful sunbeam. Come, you provoking minx, you’ll marry Phineus? ANDROMEDA I will not, father. If I must marry, then I’ll marry my bright sungod! and none else In the wide world. CEPHEUS Your sungod! Is that all? Shall I not send an envoy to Olympus And call the Thunderer here to marry you? You’re not ambitious?

Perseus the Deliverer PRAXILLA It is not that she means; She speaks of the bright youth her brother rescued. Since she has heard of him, no meaner talk Is on her lips. CEPHEUS Who is this radiant coxcomb? Whence did he come to set my Syria in a whirl? For him my son’s in peril of his life, For him my daughter will not marry Tyre. Oh, Polydaon’s right. He must be killed Before he does more mischief. Andromeda, On the third day you marry Tyrian Phineus. He goes out hurriedly. DIOMEDE That was a valiant shot timed to a most discreet departure. Parthian tactics are best when we deal with mutinous daughters. PRAXILLA Andromeda, you will obey your father? ANDROMEDA You are not in my counsels. You’re too faithful, Virtuous and wise, and virtuously you would Betray me. There is a thing full-grown in me That you shall only know by the result. Diomede, come; for I need help, not counsel. She goes. PRAXILLA What means she now? Her whims are as endless as the tossing of leaves in a wind. But you will find out and tell me, Diomede. DIOMEDE I will find out certainly, but as to telling, that is as it shall please me — and my little mistress.

Act II, Scene 2 PRAXILLA You shall be whipped. DIOMEDE Pish! She runs out. PRAXILLA The child is spoiled herself and she spoils her servants. There is no managing any of them. She goes out.