_Lys._ Thanks, my lord, and as I know you will be weary with the long day's work and your great anxieties, I am going to lay a little friendly compulsion upon you. You must leave the banquet to-morrow and go to rest by eleven o'clock at latest.

_Meg._ Well, my lord, I am not so young as I was, and if I have your permission to leave before all is over, well and good. No one knows what an anxious day is before me, and I have no doubt I shall have earned my night's rest by then. But I have much yet to do, so with your permission I will wish you good night.

[_Exit_ MEGACLES, _bowing low to each with exaggerated gestures._

_Lys._ Poor soul, poor soul! If any fight comes, it would be as cruel to let him take his part with men as it would be if he were a woman or a child.

_Enter_ ASANDER.

Welcome, my Lord Asander. Hast thou seen our men, and are they ready for to-morrow?

_Asan._ I have just come from them, and they are ready, But I am not. I pray you, let this be; Send back these men to-night. I am oppressed By such o'ermastering presages of ill As baffle all resolve.

_Lys._ My Lord Asander, It is too late. Wouldst thou, then, break thy oath?

Wouldst thou live here a prisoner, nor behold Thy father, though he die? Wouldst thou thy country Should spurn thee as the traitor whose malignance Blighted her hard-won gains? It is too late!

It is too late!

_Asan._ I am grown infirm of will As any dotard. I will go on now So that thou dost no murder.

_Lys._ Why was it We came in such o'erwhelming force, but that We sought to shed no blood?

_Asan._ I will be ready, Though with a heavy heart. To-morrow night At stroke of twelve, when all the feast is done, And all asleep, we issue from the palace, Seize the guards at their posts, and open wide The gates to the strong force which from the ships At the same hour shall land. The citizens, Heavy with wine, will wake to find their city Our own beyond recall.

_Lys._ Ay, that's the scheme, And nought can mar it now. Good night, my lord.

Sleep well; there is much to do.

_Asan._ Good night, my lords!

[_Exit_ ASANDER.

_Lys._ No bloodshed! Why, what fools love makes of men!

I have seen this very lad dash through the ranks Of hostile spearmen, cut and hack and thrust As in sheer sport. There will be blood shed, surely, Unless these dogs have lost their knack of war As he has; but we have them unprepared, And shall prevail, and thou shalt be avenged My father slain, and thou, my murdered brother, Shalt be avenged! My lords, you know what work Is given each to do. Be not too chary Of your men's swords; let them strike sudden terror.

Slay all who do resist, or if they do not, Yet slay them still. My lords, give you good night.

To-morrow at midnight, at the stroke of twelve-- At the stroke of twelve!

[_Exeunt omnes._

SCENE III.--_The council chamber of the Senate of Cherson._

ZETHO _and_ Senators; _afterwards_ GYCIA.

_Zet._ Most worthy brethren, Senators of Cherson, In great perplexity of mind and will I summon ye to-night. The Lady Gycia, Our Lamachus's daughter, sends request, Urgent as 'twere of instant life and death, That I should call ye here. What care can move Such anxious thought in her, on this the eve Of the high festival herself has founded, I know not, but 'twould seem the very air Is full of floating rumours, vague alarms, Formless suspicions which elude the grasp, Unspoken presages of coming ill Which take no shape. For whence should danger come?

We are at peace with all. Our former foe Is now our dearest friend; the Prince Asander, Though of a hasty spirit and high temper, Dwells in such close, concordant harmony With his loved wife that he is wholly ours; And yet though thus at peace, rumours of war And darkling plots beset us. Is it not thus?

Have ye heard aught?

_1st Sen._ Zetho, 'tis true. Last night, a citizen Sware he heard clang of arms and ring of mail At midnight by the house of Lamachus!

_2nd Sen._ My freedman, coming home at grey of dawn, Saw a strange ship unload her merchandise, And one bale chanced to fall, and from it came Groanings and drops of blood!

_3rd Sen._ Two nights ago, The ways being white with snow, I on the quay Saw the thick-planted marks of armed feet; But, rising with the dawn, I found the place Swept clean with care!

_Zet._ Brethren, I know not what These things portend.

_Enter_ GYCIA.

But see, she comes! Good daughter, Why is thy cheek so pale?

_Gycia._ This is the wont Of women. Grief drives every drop of blood Back to the breaking heart, which love calls forth To mantle on the cheek. Sirs, I have come On such an errand as might drive a woman Stronger than I to madness; I have come To tell you such a tale as well might fetter My tongue and leave me speechless. Pity me If I do somewhat wander in my talk!

'Tis scarce an hour ago, that in my house, Drawing some secret panel in the wall, I saw the long hall filled with armed men Of Bosphorus, and at their head--O Heaven, I cannot say it!--at their head I saw My husband, my Asander, my own love,

[Senators _rise with strong emotion._

Who ordered them and bade them all stand ready To-morrow night at midnight. What means this?

What else than that these traitorous bands shall slay Our Cherson's liberties, and give to murder Our unsuspecting people, whom the feast Leaves unprepared for war? I pray you, sirs, Lose not one moment. Call the citizens To arms while yet 'tis time! Defeat this plot!

Do justice on these traitors! Save the city, Though I am lost!

_Zet._ Daughter, thy loyal love To our dear city calls for grateful honour From us who rule. In thy young veins the blood Of patriot Lamachus flows to-day as strong As once it did in his; nay, the warm tide Which stirred the lips of bold Demosthenes And all that dauntless band who of old time Gave heart and life for Athens, still is thine.

In our h.e.l.lenic story, there is none Who has done more than thou, who hast placed love, Wedlock, and queenly rule, and all things dear To a tender woman's heart, below the State-- A patriot before all. Is there no favour A State preserved may grant thee?

_Gycia._ n.o.ble Zetho, I ask but this. I know my husband's heart, How true it was and loyal. He is led, I swear, by evil counsels to this crime; And maybe, though I seek not to excuse him, It was the son's love for his dying sire, Whom he should see no more, that scheming men Have worked on to his ruin. Banish him To his own city, though it break my heart, But harm him not; and for those wretched men Whose duty 'tis to obey, shed not their blood, But let the vengeance of our city fall Upon the guilty only.

_Zet._ Brethren all, Ye hear what 'tis she asks, and though to grant it Is difficult indeed, yet her pet.i.tion Comes from the saviour of the State. I think We well may grant her prayer. Though well I know How great the danger, yet do I believe It may be done. Is it so, worthy brethren?

[Senators _nod a.s.sent._

Daughter, thy prayer is granted.

_Gycia._ Sirs, I thank you; I love you for your mercy.

_Zet._ For the rest, I counsel that we do not rouse the city.

'Twere of no use to-night to set our arms, Blunt with long peace and rusted with disuse, Against these banded levies. By to-morrow-- And we are safe till then--we shall have time To league together such o'erwhelming force As may make bloodshed needless, vain their plot, And mercy possible. Meantime, dear lady, Breathe not a word of what thine eyes have seen, But bear thyself as though thou hadst seen nothing, And had no care excepting to do honour To thy dead sire; and when the weary day Tends to its close, school thou thy heavy heart, And wear what mask of joy thou canst, and sit Smiling beside thy lord at the high feast, Where all will meet. See that his cup is filled To the brim; drink healths to Bosphorus and Cherson.

Seem thou to drink thyself, having a goblet Of such a colour as makes water blush Rosy as wine. When all the strangers' eyes Grow heavy, then, some half an hour or more From midnight, rise as if to go to rest, Bid all good night, and thank them for their presence.

Then, issuing from the banquet-hall, lock fast The great doors after thee, and bring the key To us, who here await thee. Thus shalt thou Save this thy State, and him thy love, and all.

For we will, ere the fateful midnight comes, Send such o'erwhelming forces to surround them That they must needs surrender, and ere dawn Shall be long leagues away. We will not shed A drop of blood, my daughter.

_Gycia._ n.o.ble Zetho I thank you and these worthy senators.

I knew you would be merciful. I thank you, And will obey in all things.

[_Exit_ GYCIA.

_Bardanes, 1st Sen._ She is gone; I durst not speak before her. Dost thou know, Good Zetho, how infirm for war our State After long peace has grown? I doubt if all The men whom we might arm before the hour Are matched in numbers with those murderous hordes; While in experience of arms, in training, In everything that makes a soldier strong, We are no match for them. Our paramount duty Is to the State alone, not to these pirates Who lie in wait to slay us; nor to one Who, woman-like, knows not our strength or weakness, Nor cares, if only she might wring a promise To spare her traitorous love. But we have arts Which these barbarians know not, quenchless fires Which in one moment can enwrap their stronghold In one red ring of ruin. My counsel is, That ere the hour of midnight comes we place Around the palace walls on every side Such store of fuel and oils and cunning drugs As at one sign may leap a wall of fire Impa.s.sable, and burn these hateful traitors Like hornets in their nest.

_Zetho._ Good brethren all, Is this your will? Is it faith? Is it honour, think you, To one who has given all, for us to break Our solemn plighted word?

_2nd Sen._ We will not break it; We shed no drop of blood. The State demands it; The safety of the State doth override All other claim. The safety of the State Is more than all!

_All the Senators, with uplifted arms._ Ay, Zetho, more than all!