A Seaport in Sicilia.
 Enter CLEOMENES and DION.

Cleomenes	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
	Of the grave wearers. O, the sacrifice;
	How ceremonious, solemn, and unearthly
	It was i'th' off'ring!

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
	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,
	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,
	Shall the contents discover, something rare
	Even then will rush to knowledge. Go; fresh horses!
	And gracious be the issue.
													[Exeunt.
