._ Didst ever hear the tale
Of the Fates and how they spin?

_Child._ I do not think so.
Wilt tell me?

_Ire._ There were three weird sisters once,
Clotho and Lachesis and Atropos,
Who spun the web of fate for each new life,
Sometimes, as I do now, a brighter thread
Woven with the dark, and sometimes black as night.
Until at last came Atropos and cut
The fine-worn life-thread thus.

[_Cuts the thread; the head of the spindle rolls away._

_Child._ And hast thou cut
Some life-thread now?

_Ire._ My child, I am no Fate,
And yet I know not; but the spindle's head
Rolled hence to yonder corner. Let us seek it.
Hast found it?

_Child._ Nay, there is so little light.
I think that it has fallen in the crevice
Beneath yon panel.

_Ire._ Stoop and seek it, child.
Perchance the panel slides, and then, it may be,
We shall let in the light.

[_Draws back the panel and discovers a bright light, files of
armed men, and_ ASANDER _in the midst._

_Child._ Ay, there it is;
We have it, we have found it.

[_Sliding panel back again._

_Ire._ What have we found?
What have we found? Yes, little one, 'tis found!
Run away now--I fain would be alone--
And come back presently.

[_Kisses_ Child, _who goes._

These were the sounds
I heard and thought were fancy's. All is clear
As is the blaze of noon. The Prince Asander
Is traitor to the State, and will o'erwhelm it
When all the citizens are sunk in sleep
After to-morrow's feast. Well, what care I?
He is not for me, whether we call him King
Or Archon; and for these good men of Cherson,
What is their fate to me? If he succeed,
As now he must, since no one knows the secret,
'Twill only be a change of name--no more.
The King and Queen will hold a statelier Court
And live contented when the thing is done,
And that is all. For who will call it treason
When victory crowns the plot? But stay! a gleam
Of new-born hope. What, what if it should fail
As I could make it fail? What if this woman,
Full of fantastic reverence for the dead,
And nourished on her cold republican dream,
Should learn the treason ere 'twas done and mar it?
Would not Asander hate her for the failure?
And she him for the plot? I