SYNORIX (_aside_).
Thunder! Ay, ay, the storm was drawing hither
Across the hills when I was being crown'd.
I wonder if I look as pale as she?
CAMMA.
Art thou--still bent--on marrying?
SYNORIX.
Surely--yet
These are strange words to speak to Artemis.
CAMMA.
Words are not always what they seem, my King.
I will be faithful to thee till thou die.
SYNORIX.
I thank thee, Camma,--I thank thee.
CAMMA (_turning to_ ANTONIUS).
Antonius,
Much graced are we that our Queen Rome in you
Deigns to look in upon our barbarisms.
[_Turns, goes up steps to altar before the Goddess.
Takes a cup from off the altar. Holds it towards_
ANTONIUS. ANTONIUS _goes up to the foot of the
steps, opposite to_ SYNORIX.
You see this cup, my lord. [_Gives it to him_.
ANTONIUS.
Most curious!
The many-breasted mother Artemis
Emboss'd upon it.
CAMMA.
It is old, I know not
How many hundred years. Give it me again.
It is the cup belonging our own Temple.
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