risoner, 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