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Comic Tragedies

<h2>ION.</h2> <hr class="hr2"/> <h2>NOTE TO ION.</h2> This play was found too uninteresting for presentation, and was left unfinished, but is here given as a specimen of what the young authors considered very fine writing. The drama was, of course, to end well. Cleon, being free, at once assembles a noble army, returns to conquer Mohammed and release Ion, who weds the lovely Zuleika, becomes king, and "lives happily forever after." <hr class="hr2"/> <h2>CHARACTERS.</h2> Mohammed The Turk. Cleon Prince of Greece. Ion Son of Cleon. Adrastus A Priest. Hafiz Turkish Envoy. Hassan A Slave. Murad A Slave. Abdallah A Slave. Iantha Wife of Cleon. Zuleika Daughter of Mohammed. Medon A Slave. Selim A Slave. <hr class="hr2"/> <h3>SCENE FIRST.</h3> [Room in the palace of Cleon. Iantha and Adrastus.] Iantha. How wearily the days wear on, and the heavy hours so fraught with doubt press like death upon my aching heart. To the young, the fair, the happy, life is a blissful dream, filled with bright joys; for hope like a star beams on their pathway. But to the grief-worn heart, worn with weary watching, vexed with sad cares, whose hours are filled with fear, and ever thronging sorrows, whose star burns with a dim uncertain light,—oh, weary, weary is the pilgrimage; joyless the present, dark the future; and the sooner all is o'er, the better. [Pg 212]Adrastus. Daughter, thou hast forgot. The radiant star may pale and fade, but He who giveth it its light still liveth. Turn unto Him thy worn and bleeding heart, and comfortless thou shalt not be. Iantha. Father, I cannot. When I would pray for resignation, words fail me, and my soul is filled with murmuring, while round me throng visions of battle-fields and death. Ever comes before me the form of Cleon,—no longer bright and beautiful as when, burning with hope and confidence in his high calling, he went forth to conquer or to die; but fallen, bleeding, perhaps dead, or a captive in the dungeon of the pagan, doomed to waste in hopeless misery the long years of his manhood. And my boy,—what will be his fate? Father, can I think on this and pray? Adrastus. 'Tis hard, Iantha; but to His aid alone canst thou look up to save thy husband from the horrors of a bloody[Pg 213] war. Call on Him, and He, the merciful, will in thy great need be near thee. [Enter Medon. Medon. A stranger craveth audience. Iantha [rushing forward]. A stranger! Cometh he from my lord? Medon. I know not, lady; but as a messenger is he clad, and with great haste demandeth speech of thee, saying he bore tidings of great import. Iantha. Admit him instantly. [Exit Medon.] Father, do thou follow, and speed him hither. Adrastus. I hasten to obey thee. Bear a brave heart, my daughter. I feel that hope is near. [Exit Adrastus. Iantha [joyfully]. Hope,—thrice blessed word!—wilt thou indeed visit this doubting heart once more, and sweeten the cup thou hast so long forsaken? [Enter Hafiz.] Welcome! comest thou from my lord? Thy tidings speedily! Hafiz. To the wife of Cleon, late commander[Pg 214] of the rebel Greeks, am I sent to bear tidings of their defeat by Mohammed, now master of all Greece. Adrastus. And my lord,—the noble Cleon? Hafiz. Betrayed, defeated, and now lying under sentence of immediate death in the dungeon of the Sultan. Iantha. Lost! lost! lost! [Falls fainting on a couch.] [Enter Adrastus. Adrastus. Daughter, look up!—there is yet hope. There is no time for rest. Up! rouse thy brave, till now, unconquered heart and cast off this spell. And thou, slave, hence,—away! [Exit Hafiz. Iantha [rousing]. Defeated, imprisoned, condemned,—words unto one heart fraught with such dire despair. Tell me, Father, oh, tell me truly, do I dream? [Enter Ion, who stands listening. Adrastus. 'Tis no dream. The rough soldier did but tell thee in rude speech,[Pg 215] what I was hastening in more guarded words to bear thee. 'Tis true; thy lord is in Mohammed's power, a victim to the perfidy of pagans, and doomed unto a speedy death. Nay, Iantha, shrink not, but as a soldier's wife, glory in the death of thy brave knight, dying for his country; and in his martyrdom take to thy soul sweet comfort. Iantha. Comfort! Oh, man, thou little knowest woman's heart! What to her is glory, when him she loveth is torn from her forever? What to the orphan is the crown of martyrdom, the hero's fame, the praise of nations, the homage of the great? Will they give back the noble dead, heal the broken heart, tear bitter memories from the wounded soul to whom earth is desolate? Nay, Father, nay. Oh, Cleon, would I could die with thee! Adrastus. This mighty sorrow o'erpowers her reason and will destroy all hope. Iantha, daughter, rouse thyself; let the love thou dost bear thy lord now aid in his deliverance. From the wealth[Pg 216] of thy heart's true affection, devise thou some way to save him. Iantha. Aid me, Father; I have no power of thought. I will trust all to thee. [Ion approaches. Adrastus. I know not what to counsel thee; my life hath ill fitted me to deal with soldiers and with kings. But if some messenger— Iantha. Nay, it will not serve. None will dare brave the anger of the pagan, and death were the doom of such as approach him other than as a slave. And yet,—perchance he might relent. Oh, were there some true heart, fearless and loving, to aid me now in mine hour of distress! Where can I look for help? Ion [coming forward]. Here, Mother,—I will seek the camp of Mohammed. Iantha. Thou!—my Ion, my only one. No, no; it may not be,—thy tender youth, thy gentle, untried spirit. 'Tis madness e'en to think on! Ion. Mother, am I not a soldier's son,[Pg 217] cradled 'mid warriors? Runs not the blood of heroes in these veins? Are not my father's deeds, his bright, untarnished name, my proud inheritance? What though this tender form is yet untried; what though these arms have never borne the knightly armor? No victor's laurels rest on this youthful brow, and I bear no honored name among the great and glorious of our land; yet, Mother, have I not a father, for whose dear sake I may yet purchase that knighthood for which this young heart glows? Am I not the son of Cleon? Adrastus. Verily doth a spirit move the boy. Look on him now, Iantha, and let no weak, unworthy doubt of thine curb the proud spirit that proves him worthy of his sire. Iantha. My son, my fair, young Ion, thou art all now left my widowed heart. How can I bid thee go! The barbarous pagan will doom thee to a cruel death. How canst thou, an unknown youth, move the fierce heart that hath slain thy sire? [Pg 218] Ion. Fear not, Mother; he who calls me to this glorious mission will protect me. Shall I stand weeping while my father still breathes the air of pagan dungeons; while the base fetters of the infidel rest on his limbs, and his brave followers lie unavenged in their cold, bloody graves; while my country's banner, torn, dishonored, is trampled in the dust,—and he the proud, the brave, till now unconquered defender of that country's honor, lies doomed to an ignominious death? Oh, Mother, bid me go! Adrastus. Iantha, speak to the boy! Let him not say his mother taught him fear. Iantha. My Ion, go,—strong in thine innocence and faith, go forth upon thy holy mission; and surely He who looketh ever with a loving face on those who put their trust in Him, will in His mercy guard and guide thee [girds on his sword]. Farewell! Go,—with thy mother's blessing on thee![Pg 219] Ion. Now is my heart filled all anew with hope and courage, and I go forth trustingly. Father, thy blessing [kneels before Adrastus]. Adrastus. Go, thou self-anointed victim on the altar of thy love. Bless thy pure, faithful heart! Ion [rising]. Farewell! Embrace me, Mother. Iantha [pressing Ion to her breast]. Farewell, my Ion. And if the great Father wills it that I look not again on thee in life, into His care do I commit thee. Farewell! Ion. Mother, farewell! And if I fall, mourn not, but glory that I died as best became the son of Cleon [draws his sword]. And now leap forth, my sword!—henceforth is there no rest nor honor till we have conquered. Father, I come, I come! [Ion rushes out; Iantha rushes to the window, tears off her veil and waves it to Ion.] CURTAIN. <hr /> [Pg 220] <h3>SCENE SECOND.</h3> [Tent of Mohammed; maps and arms lying about. Mohammed and Hafiz.] Moh'd. And spake they no word of ransom or of hostage? Hafiz. None, sire. The lady lay as one struck dead; and the priest, foul Christian dog, bade me go hence, and tarry not. Moh'd. And held you no speech with those about the princess. Sure, there were some to listen to thy master's word. Hafiz. Great master, I sought in vain to set before them the royal will. At first it were as though a spell had fallen on them. Nay, some did turn aside and weep, rending their hair, as though all hope were lost. Then, when I strove to win them to some counsel, they woke to such an uproar, cursing thy perfidy, and vowing most dire and speedy vengeance[Pg 221] on thee, clashing their weapons and crying, "Down with the pagan dogs!" Then, drawing forth their lances with fierce oaths, they drove me from the gates in such warlike manner, I could but strive with haste to make good mine escape, and without rest have I journeyed hither to bring thee tidings. Moh'd. By the prophet! and is it thus they serve the royal messenger. But they shall rue it dearly. Cleon shall die. To-morrow's sun shall never shine for him. The proud Greeks shall learn to dread Mohammed's ire, and bend their haughty heads before him in the dust. I offer ransom, and they will not harken. I send them honorable terms, and they thrust my messenger rudely from their gates. They have dared to brave me,—they shall feel my power! Hafiz. Mighty Mohammed, if thy poor slave might offer counsel, were it not wise to tarry till the Greeks on cooler thought shall seek thee with some treaty which[Pg 222] may avail thee better than such hasty vengeance. How much more worthy were a heavy ransom than the life of a single miserable prince. Moh'd. Peace, slave! I have said Cleon shall die, and, by Allah! so I have not word from these rebel dogs ere three days shall wear away, his body swung from the battlements shall bear them tidings of Mohammed's power. [Enter Selim.] What hath befallen, Selim, that thou comest in such haste? Selim. Most mighty king, there waits without a youth, demanding speech of thee. Moh'd. A youth! Who may he be, and what seeks he with us? Selim. Most gracious sire, I know not. Our guard surprised him wandering without the camp,—alone, unarmed, save with a single sword; young, and I think a Greek. Abdallah seized him as a spy, and led him hither to await thy royal will. He doth refuse all question, demanding to[Pg 223] be led before thee, where he will unfold his errand. Moh'd. A Greek! Bring him before us, an he prove a spy he shall hang before the day waxeth older by an hour. Hence,—bring him hither! [Exit Selim.] By Allah! my proud foes have deigned to send us messengers, and seek to win the favor so rudely scorned. They know not Mohammed, and, so they humble not themselves, will sue in vain. [Enter Selim, dragging Ion. Selim. Your Mightiness doth behold the youth. [To Ion, who stands proudly.] Kneel, slave! Ion. I kneel not unto tyrants. Moh'd. How, bold stripling! Weigh with more care thy speech, and forget not before whom thou dost stand. [To Selim.] Go, slave, and stand without; see that none enter here unbidden. [Exit Selim.] Speak, boy! Who art thou, and why dost thou seek thus fearlessly the presence of thy foe?—and beware thou speakest truly[Pg 224] if it is as a friend to treat in honorable fashion, or as a spy, thou now standest before us. Ion. I am a Greek, son to the noble Cleon, now thy captive; I seek his rescue. Moh'd. Son to Cleon! Now, by the Prophet, 'tis wondrous strange! And thou hast ventured alone into the camp amid thy deadly foes? Speak, boy,—thine errand! Ion. To offer hostage; to treat with Mohammed for a father's life; to move to pity or to justice the heart that hath doomed a noble soldier unto an unjust death. Moh'd. And where, my bold prince, are thy followers, thy slaves, thy royal train? Ion. On yonder plain, cold in their graves. Moh'd. Hast thou brought ransom? Where is thy gold? Ion. In the coffers of the Turkish Mohammed, plundered from his slaughtered foes. [Pg 225]Moh'd. Thou spakest of hostage,—I see it not. Ion. 'Tis here,—the son of Cleon. Moh'd. Thou! and thinkest thou thy young, worthless life were a fit hostage for the leader of a rebel band, the enemy of all true followers, whose capture hath cost blood and slaves and gold? By Allah! boy, thou must name a higher price to win the life thou doth seek. Ion. I have nought else to offer. Thy hand hath rent from me friends, followers, gold, a sire. But if this young life hath any worth to thee, if these arms may toil for thee, this form bear burdens to thy royalty, take them,—take all, O king, but render unto me that life without which Greece is lost. Moh'd. Peace! Thy speech is vain; thy life is nought to me. Ion. I will serve thee as a slave; in all things do thy bidding,—faithful, unwearied, unrepining. Grant but my boon, and monarch shall never have a truer[Pg 226] vassal than I will be to thee. Great Mohammed, let me not plead in vain. Moh'd. Peace, I say; anger me not. Ion. O king, hast thou no heart? Think of the ruined home, the mourning people, the land made desolate by thee; of her who now counts the weary hours for tidings of those dear to her,—tidings fraught with life or death as thou shalt decree; of the son by thee doomed to see his honored sire, hero of a hundred battles dragged like a slave unto a shameful death. As thou wilt have mercy shown to thee, that mercy show thou unto me. Oh, say to me, "Thy father lives!" Moh'd. Away! I will not listen. Ion. Nay, I will kneel to thee. I who never knelt to man before, now implore thee with earnest supplication. 'Tis for a father's life. Moh'd. Kneel not to me,—it is in vain. Thy father is my captive, my deadliest foe, whom I hate, and curse,—ay,[Pg 227] and will slay. Boy, dost thou know to whom thou dost bow? Ion [rising proudly]. To the pagan Mohammed,—he who with murderous hand hath bathed in blood the smiling plains of Greece; profaned her altars, enslaved her people, and filled the land with widows' tears and orphans' cries; he who by perfidy makes captives of his foes, refusing hostage and scorning honorable treaty; turns from all supplicants, closes his heart to mercy, and tramples under foot all pity and all justice,—the murderer, and the tyrant. Yes, king, I know to whom I plead. Moh'd. [in great anger]. Ho, without there, guards!—Selim! [Enter Selim and soldiers.] Away with the prisoner! Bind him fast; see he escape not. Mohammed stands not to be braved by a beardless boy! Hence! [Guards approach with chains.] Ion. Lay not hands upon me,—I am no slave! One more appeal: May a son look once more upon his father ere death[Pg 228] parts them forever? May I but for an hour speak with Cleon? Moh'd. Once more thou mayst look upon the rebel Greek. When he hangs from yonder battlement thou mayst gaze unbidden as thou will. Away! With to-morrow's sun, he dies. Ion. So soon, O king!—nay, the son of Cleon kneels not to thee again [turns to go]. Moh'd. Stay,—yield up thy sword! Bend thy proud knee, and surrender unto me the arms thou art unworthy now to bear. Ion [drawing his sword]. This, my sword, girded on by a mother's hand, pledged to the deliverance of a captive sire, dedicated to the service of my country, unstained, unconquered,—thus do I surrender thee. [He breaks the sword, and flings it down.] Moh'd. Again dost thou brave me! Away with the rebel! Bind him hand and foot. He shall learn what it is to be Mohammed's slave. Hence, I say! [Pg 229]Ion. I am thy captive, but thy slave—never! Thou mayst chain my limbs, thou canst not bind my freeborn soul! Lead on,—I follow. [Exit Ion and guards. CURTAIN. <hr /> [Pg 230] <h3>SCENE THIRD.</h3> [Tent of Zuleika; guitar, ottoman, etc.] Zuleika [pacing up and down]. Night draweth on apace, and ever nearer comes the fatal hour. With to-morrow's dawn all hope is o'er, for Mohammed hath sworn the Greek shall die, and when was he ere known to fail in his dread purpose? In vain have I wept before him, imploring him to have some mercy; in vain have I sought with golden promises to move the stony-hearted Hafiz,—all, all hath failed, and I am in despair. And that brave youth, his true heart filled with love's pure devotion, seeking by the sacrifice of his own life to save a father! And now each moment bringeth nearer the death-hour of that father, and he is mourning in solitude that he may not say farewell. Where can I turn for help? Ah, Hassan! my faithful slave. He is true, and loveth me like his[Pg 231] own. He must aid me [claps her hands; enter Hassan]. Hassan, thou lovest me, and would not see me grieve? Hassan. Allah, forbid! Thou art dear to old Hassan as the breath of life, and while life lingers he will serve thee. Zuleika. Then must thou aid me in a deed of mercy. Who doth keep watch to-night before the tent of the young Greek? Hassan. Mine is the watch. Wherefore dost thou seek to know? Zuleika. Hassan, thou hast sworn to serve me. I have a boon to ask of thee. Hassan. Speak, lady! thy slave doth listen. Zuleika. Thou knowest that with the morning sun Mohammed hath sworn Cleon shall die. Such is the fierce anger he doth bear his foe he hath refused all mercy and scorned to listen to the prayers of the young prince who hath journeyed hither at peril of his own life to place himself in the power of the king as hostage for his father. [Pg 232] Hassan. It is indeed most true. Poor youth! Zuleika. 'Tis of him I would speak to thee. Mohammed, angered at his boldness, hath, as thou knowest, guarded him in yonder tent, denying him his last sad prayer to speak once more in life with his father. Oh, Hassan, what must be the agony of that young heart to see the hours swift speeding by, and know no hope. Hassan. What wouldst thou have me do? Zuleika. Lead him to his father; give him the consolation of folding to his breast the beloved one to save whose life he hath sacrificed his own. Hassan. Dear mistress, thou art dreaming, and cannot know the danger of so rash a deed. Bethink thee of Mohammed's anger, the almost certain doom of such as dare to brave his mighty will. I pray thee let not thy noble heart lead thee astray. Thou canst not save him, and will but harm thyself. [Pg 233]Zuleika. Hassan, thy love and true devotion, I well know, doth prompt thee to thus counsel, and in thy fear for me thou dost forget to think of mercy or of pity. I thank thee; but thou canst not move me from my firm resolve. Again I ask thee, Wilt thou aid me? Hassan [falling at her feet]. Pardon, but I cannot. Heed, I implore thee, the counsel of thy faithful servant, and trust to the wisdom these gray hairs have brought. Thou art young and brave, but believe me, maiden, dangers of which thou dost not dream beset the path, and I were no true friend did I not warn thee to beware. Do not tempt me; I cannot aid thee to thy ruin. Zuleika. Then will I go alone. I will brave the peril, and carry comfort to a suffering soul [turns to go; Hassan catches her robe]. Hassan. Maiden! once more let thy slave entreat. Thy father places faith in me. I am the captive's guard. [Pg 234]Zuleika. Peace, Hassan, peace; if life be then so dear to thee, and thy duty to thy king greater than that thou dost owe to thy fellow-man, Allah forbid that I should tempt thee to forget it. But did death look me in the face, I would not tarry now. Hassan. And thou wouldst seek the captive's cell? Zuleika. This very hour. Soon it will be too late. Hassan. Thou knowest not the way,—soldiers guard every turn. Oh, tarry till the dawn, I do implore thee. Zuleika. The darkness shall be my guide, Allah my guard; shrouded in yon dark mantle none will deem me other than a slave. Again I ask thee, Wilt thou go? Hassan. I go. I were no true man to tremble when a woman fears not. I will guide thee, and may Allah in his mercy shield us both. Say thy prayers, Hassan, for thy head no longer rests in safety. Zuleika. Come, let us on! The moments[Pg 235] speed. The darkening gloom befriends us. First to the tent of the young prince, and while I in brief speech do acquaint him with mine errand, thou shalt keep guard without. Then will we guide him to his father, and unto Allah leave the rest [shrouds herself in dark mantle and veil]. Lead on, good Hassan. Let us away! Hassan. Fold thy veil closer, that none may know the daughter of Mohammed walks thus late abroad. Come, and Allah grant we sleep not in paradise to-morrow! [Exit, leading Zuleika. CURTAIN. <hr /> [Pg 236] <h3>SCENE FOURTH.</h3> [Ion's tent. Ion chained, in an attitude of deep despair, upon a miserable couch. He does not see the entrance of Zuleika and Hassan.] Zuleika. Stand thou without as watch, good Hassan, and warn me if any shall approach. [Exit Hassan.] Young Greek, despair not; hope is nigh. Ion [starting up]. Bright vision, whence comest thou? Art thou the phantom of a dream, or some blest visitant from that better land, come to bear me hence? What art thou? Zuleika. I am no vision, but a mortal maiden, come to bring thee consolation. Ion. Consolation! ah, then indeed thou art no mortal; for unto grief like mine there is no consolation, save that which cometh from above. [Pg 237]Zuleika. Nay, believe it not. Human hearts are at this moment hoping, and human hands are striving earnestly to spare thee the agony thou dost dread. Ion. Are there then hearts to feel for the poor Greek? I had thought I was alone,—alone 'mid mine enemies. Sure, those fetters are no dream, this dark cell, the words "Thy father dies!" No, no! it is a dread reality. The words are burned into my brain. Zuleika. Is death, then, so dread a thing unto a warrior? I had thought it brought him fame and glory. Ion. Death! Oh, maiden! To the soldier on the battle-field, fighting for his father-land 'mid the clash of arms, the fierce blows of foemen, the shouts of victory; 'neath the banner of his country, the gratitude of a nation, the glory of a hero round his brow,—death were a happy, ay, a welcome friend. But alone, 'mid foes, disgraced by fetters, dragged to a dishonored grave, with none to whisper[Pg 238] of hope or comfort, death is a cruel, a most bitter foe. Zuleika. Mine errand is to take from that death the bitterness thou dost mourn, to give a parting joy to the life now passing. Ion. Oh, hast thou the power to save my father's life! Oh, use it now, and Greece shall bless thee for thy mercy! Zuleika. Oh, that the power were mine, how gladly would I use it in a cause so glorious! I am but a woman, and tho' the heart is strong, the arm is very weak. I cannot save thy father, but trust I may still cheer the parting hours with a brief happiness. Ion. Lady, thy words of kindly sympathy fall like sweet music on my troubled heart, and at thy magic call hope springeth up anew. Thou art unknown, and yet there is that within that doth whisper I may trust thee. Zuleika. Thou mayst indeed. Heaven were not more true than I will be[Pg 239] unto my word. [Hassan pauses before the door.] Hassan. Lady, the hours are fleeting. It were best to make good speed. Zuleika. Hassan, thou dost counsel aright; morn must not find me here. [To Ion.] Young Greek, thou knowest with the coming dawn thy father dies. Ion. Ay, ere another moon doth rise that life, so dear to Greece, shall be no more; the heart that beat so nobly at his country's call be still forever,—I know it well! Zuleika. And hast thou no last word for him, no parting wish? Ion. O maiden, my life were a glad sacrifice, so that I might for a single hour look on him,—for the last time say, "My father, bless thy Ion." Zuleika. That hour shall be thine. Fold thyself in yonder cloak, and follow me. Ion. Follow thee,—and whither? Zuleika. To thy father's presence.[Pg 240] Thou shalt spend with him the last hours of his earthly life. Stay not; this friendly gloom will ere long pass away. Ion [falling on his knees and catching her robe]. Art thou my guardian angel? Oh, may the consolation thou hath poured into a suffering soul, fall like heaven's dew upon thine own; and if the prayers of a grateful heart bring hope and joy and peace, thy life shall bloom with choicest blessings. O maiden, how do I bless thee! [Kisses her robe.] Zuleika. Speak not of that,—kneel not to me, a mortal maiden. Thy gratitude is my best reward. Hassan, lead on! Hassan. Lady, I do thy bidding. First let me lead thee to a place of safety. Zuleika. Nay, Hassan, I tarry here,—thou canst return; I will await thee. Now make all speed,—away! Ion. Let us hence; my heart can ill contain its joy. Oh, my father, shall I see thee, hear thy voice, feel thine arms[Pg 241] once more about me, and die with thy blessing on my head. Heaven hath blessed my mission. Zuleika. Shall we depart? The hour wanes. Ion. I will follow whither thou shalt lead. But, stay! is there no danger unto thee? Will thy deed of mercy bring suffering to thee, my kind deliverer? Zuleika. Fear not for me. Yet one pledge must I ask of thee on which my safety doth depend. 'Tis this: Swear that from the moment thou dost leave me until thou art again a prisoner here, though the path lie plain before thee thou wilt not fly. Ion. I swear. Thou mayst trust me. Zuleika. Yet once again. Breathe not to mortal ear the means by which thou sought'st thy sire, and let the memory of this hour fade from thy heart forever. [Ion bows assent.] What pledge have I of thy secrecy, and of thy truth? Ion. The word of a Greek is sacred,[Pg 242] and were not my gratitude my surest pledge to thee? Zuleika. Pardon, I do trust. Now haste thee. Ion [pointing to his fetters]. Thou dost forget I am a prisoner still. Zuleika. Hassan, unloose these fetters, and give the Greek his freedom. [Hassan takes off the chains; Ion springs joyfully forward.] Ion. Now am I free again, and with the Turk's base fetters have I cast off my fears and my despair. Hope smiles upon me, and my father calls. Oh, let us tarry not. Zuleika [folding a dark mantle round him]. Thus shrouded, in safety thou mayst reach his cell; this ring will spare thee question. Hassan will guide thee, and I—will pray for thy success. Farewell! May Allah aid thee! Ion. Lady, though I may never know thee, never look on thee again, the memory of this brief hour will never fade.[Pg 243] The blessed gift of mercy thou dost bestow will I ever treasure with the deepest gratitude, and my fervent prayer that all Heaven's blessings may rest upon thee cease but with my life [falls on his knee and kisses her hand]. Pardon,—'tis my only thanks. Spirit of mercy, farewell! farewell! [Follows Hassan; Zuleika gazes after him, then sinks down weeping.] CURTAIN. <hr /> [Pg 244] <h3>SCENE FIFTH.</h3> [Tent of Cleon the Greek. Cleon, chained, pacing to and fro.] Cleon. A few short hours and all is o'er,—Cleon sleeps with his fathers. I could have wished to die like a hero in my harness, and have known my grave were watered by my loved one's tears; to take my wife once more unto my bosom; once more bless my noble Ion; and pass hence with the blest consciousness of victory won. 'Tis bitter thus to die, ingloriously and alone. [Proudly raising his head.] But the name of Cleon is too dear unto his people e'er to be forgotten. The memory that he strove ever for his country's welfare shall strew with tearful blessings his unhonored grave. [Steps approach; voices are heard.] Ah, they come! They shall find me ready. [Enter Ion.] Has mine hour come? I am here. [Pg 245] [Ion casts off his cloak, and springs forward.] Ion. Father! O my father! Cleon [starting back wildly]. Thou? Here! Ion. Yes, thy Ion; bless me, Father [kneels]. Cleon [raising and clasping Ion to his breast]. Here, on my heart, dear one. I turn to meet my executioners, and see thee, my boy. Great Heaven, I bless thee! [They embrace tenderly and weep.] Thou camest thither—how? Ion. Alone, with my good sword. Cleon. Thy guide through the perils of the way, my child? Ion. The good Father who doth guide all who trust in him. Cleon. And thine errand? Ion. To behold thee, my father, and with my life to strive for thy release. Cleon. My noble boy, thou hast come unto thy death. Oh, who could bid thee thus brave the doom that must await thee? [Pg 246]Ion. My mother bid me forth; and as she girded on my sword, she bid me seek my father, with her blessing on my mission. Cleon. My brave Iantha, thus for thy country's sake to doom thine own heart to so deep a sorrow [looks sadly upon Ion]. Tell me, my son, did thy mother bear bravely up against the fatal tidings? I had feared her tender heart might but ill meet a blow so fearful. Speak to me of her. Ion. When the rude Turk did in rough speech acquaint her with thy fell defeat, she sank as one o'erpowered by her grief, praying the friendly hand of death might take her hence; but soon the spirit of the Greek rose high within her, and, banishing her fears, with brave and trusting heart she sent me forth to seek, and if it might be, save thee. Ah, my father, that I might die for thee! Cleon. And thou hath come to see me die! Dost thou not know that with the[Pg 247] night thy father passeth hence, and when the stars again look forth it will be upon his grave? Ion. Father, 'tis because thou art doomed that I am here. And if my heart speak truly, those same bright stars shall serve to guide thee back to freedom. Cleon. Thou doth speak wildly. What wilt thou do? Wilt thou brave the king? Ion [proudly]. Nay, I have knelt for the last time unto Mohammed. I have offered him my liberty, my service, ay, my life itself, and he hath scorned me. I have deigned to bow before him as a suppliant, and he hath spurned me; I have sought by all the power love and despair could teach to move him, and his ear was closed to me. I seek him not again. Cleon. Child, what hath led thee to the presence of the king? How didst thou brave the frown of him before whom even <ins title="Original had arm�d">armed</ins> men do tremble? Didst thou dream thy feeble voice could reach a heart so cruel, that thy prayers could soften[Pg 248] one who knoweth not the name of mercy? Ion. Love can brave all dangers. It giveth wisdom to the untaught, strength to the weak, hope to the despairing, comfort to the mourner. Love hath been my guide, my guard. Cleon. My boy! my Ion! Truly doth God place in the pure heart of such as thou his truest wisdom, his deepest faith [embraces him with deep emotion]. But—art not thou in danger? Did not thy bold speech anger the proud king? Art thou still free? Ion. Let not thy heart be vexed with fears for me,—I am unharmed. Cleon. Ion, deceive me not, but as thou hopest for thy father's love, speak truly. Art thou in danger from the Turk, and in thy devotion to thy father dost thou seek to be thyself the sacrifice? Answer me, Ion. Ion. Father, I sought to spare thy too o'erburdened heart another grief. I am a[Pg 249] prisoner in Mohammed's power, and know not if my fate be life or death. Cleon. 'Tis as I feared; and thou, the last hope of thy country, must fall,—all, all, for me! Oh, mine own disgrace were bitter, but to see thee die! Oh, woe is me! Ion. Father, were it not better thus to die, than in disgraceful peace to pass away with no thought for our fatherland, no proud consciousness of having at the call of duty sacrificed all we held most dear, and leave a name held sacred as one who yielded life and liberty on the altar of his country? Cleon. But that thou in thine innocence and bloom should meet death at the hands of heartless foemen; and for my sake! 'Tis this that tears my heart. Ion. The purer the victim the more acceptable the sacrifice. But fear not, dear father. The Turk is yet a man; 'tis 'gainst thee he wars, and he will not wreak his vengeance on a child. He may[Pg 250] relent, and for my love's sake, pardon mine offence. Cleon. Child, thou knowest not Mohammed. He pardons none; all fall before him, with relentless hand,—all strew his pathway unto victory. Will he then spare and pity thee? Nay, sire and son must fall! [Stands sorrowfully. Ion suddenly sees Zuleika's ring upon his hand, and springs forward.] Ion. Father, thou shalt yet breathe the air of freedom, shall clasp my mother to thy heart; once more shall lead thy gallant band onward to victory. Cleon. Raise not bright hopes to crush them at their birth; wake not to dreams of triumph the heart that hath striven to drive hence all save the solemn thoughts meet for one so soon to pass away. Ion [pointing to the door]. See, the gray morning 'gins to glimmer in the east. 'Tis no time for despair. Haste, Father, freedom is near! Cleon. What doth thus move thee,[Pg 251] Ion? Dost thou forget these chains, the guards, the perils at each step? Thou art dreaming! Ion. I tell thee 'tis no dream. Thou shalt be free. This mantle will disguise thee; this ring open a pathway through the guards; these stars shall be thy silent guide. Wilt thou go? Cleon. 'Tis strange! Whence then that ring? How dost thou, a captive, wander thus freely, and offer liberty with such a bounteous hand? Ion. A solemn oath doth forbid me to reveal to living man the secret of this hour; but if ever angels do leave their homes to minister to suffering souls, 'twas one most bright and beautiful who hath this night led me unto thee, and placed in mine hand the power to set thee free. Cleon. Truth speaketh in thine earnest eye and pleading voice, and yet I dare not listen to thy tale. Ion. Oh, Father, heed not thy fears, thy doubts! Take thy liberty, believing it[Pg 252] heaven-sent. No oath binds thee to Mohammed; thou art no rightful prisoner of war,—neither duty nor honor doth demand thy stay. Thy country calls, and Heaven doth point the way. Cleon. 'Tis true; no oath doth bind me to the Turk, and yet to fly—My soldier's spirit doth ill brook such retreat. Ion. Then stay not, my father, but whilst thou may, depart. Cleon. Bright hopes call me hence. Life, love, fame, beckon me away. [Hassan looks in.] Hassan. The promised hour hath well-nigh gone. Prepare, young Greek; we must away. Ion. A moment more. [Exit Hassan.] Father, time wanes. Once more I do entreat thee,—go! Cleon. Heaven grant I choose aright! Come Ion, we will forth together. [Ion folds the cloak about Cleon; gives him the ring.] Come, let us go. [Pg 253]Ion. Nay, but one can pass forth. Thou goest. I await the morning here. Cleon. Then do I tarry also. Nay, Ion, I will not go hence without thee. Ion. Then all is lost. Father, thy stay can nought avail me. It cannot save, and thou wilt but sacrifice thine own priceless life. Cleon. Then fly with me; let me bear thee to thy mother. Alone, I will not go. Ion. I cannot go; a vow doth bid me stay,—a vow that nought shall tempt me from the camp to-night; and when did a Greek e'er break his plighted word? Cleon. If thine honor bid thee stay, thy father will not tempt thee hence; but he may stay and suffer with thee the fate of the faithful [throws off the mantle]. Ion. Oh, my father, do not cast from thee the priceless boon of liberty. Think of thy broken-hearted wife, thy faithful followers, thy unconquered foes; think, Father, of thy country calling on thee for[Pg 254] deliverance. What were my worthless life weighed 'gainst her freedom. And what happier fate for a hero's son than for a hero's sake to fall! Cleon. Thou true son of Greece! Mayst thou yet live to wield a sword for thine oppressed land, and gird with laurels that brow so worthy them. [Hassan enters. Hassan. No longer may I stay: thine hour is past. Ion. I come,—yet one moment more, good Hassan; it is my last. [Exit Hassan.] Once more, my father, do I entreat thee,—go. Thou dost forget a guardian spirit watcheth over me, and the power that led me hither may yet accomplish my deliverance. If nought else can move thee, for my sake go, and win for me that freedom mine honor doth now forbid me to seek. Break not my heart, nor let me plead in vain. Cleon. My boy, for thy dear sake do I consent. I will earn thy deliverance[Pg 255] bravely, as a soldier should; and thy dear image shall be to me the star that leads me on to victory. Ion [joyfully]. Away! Hassan will guide thee past the guards. Then fly,—and Heaven guide thee, O my father! [Ion again shrouds Cleon in the mantle, concealing his chains in the thick folds.] Thus muffle thy tell-tale fetters, that no sound may whisper to the Turks there walks a Greek under the free heavens forth to freedom. Cleon. My Ion, one last embrace! God grant 'tis not our last on earth! Bless thee, thou true young heart! Heaven guard thee! [Hassan enters in haste. Hassan. Art ready? We must depart. [Cleon bows his head and follows. Ion rushes after, looking from the tent.] Ion. Saved! saved! The morning sun that was to shine upon his grave, will smile upon him far, far from foemen's power. And Mohammed, thinking to look upon[Pg 256] a dying slave, shall waken to the sound of his victorious war-trump. Ion, thy mission is accomplished. Thou hast given a saviour to thy fatherland, and mayst fall thyself without a murmur [looks up thankfully; a loud noise without]. [Enter Abdallah and Murad. Abd. Where is the prisoner? Come forth! Ion. I am here [comes forward]. Abd. Ha!—here is treason! Without there!—the prisoner hath escaped! Murad. Who flieth yonder, past the camp? Abd. 'Tis he! Forth, call for aid! Search without delay! Here is foul work abroad. First, seize yon boy; fetter the base spy; bear him before the king. Speed hence! Murad [to Ion]. Infidel dog, thou shalt learn what it is to brave Mohammed's ire! [They seize Ion, and drag him away.] CURTAIN. <hr class="hr2"/> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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