Chapter 17

_At a table, on a dais_, ZETHO, ASANDER, GYCIA, _and_ Senators; LYSIMACHUS, _and_ Courtiers _of Bosphorus._ Magnates _of Cherson at cross tables._ ASANDER, LYSIMACHUS, _the_ Courtiers, _and_ Senators _seem flushed with wine._

_Zetho._ I drink to him whose gracious memory We celebrate to-day. In all our Cherson, Which boasts descent from the Athenian race, Who one time swayed the world, there was no man, Nor ever had been, fired with deeper love Of this our city, or more heartfelt pride In our republican rule (LYSIMACHUS _sneers_), which free-born men Prize more than life. I do not seek to bind Those who, long nurtured under kingly rule, Give to the Man the love we bear the State; But never shall the name of King be heard In this our Cherson.

_Lys._ Archon, 'twere unwise To risk long prophecies.

_Bard._ Be silent, sir, If you would not offend.

_Zetho._ I bid you all Drink to the memory of Lamachus And weal to our Republic.

_Lys._ Shall we drink Its memory, for it has not long to live, If it be still alive?

_Bard._ It will outlive thee. _Thou_ hast not long to live.

_Lys._ Longer than thou, If swords be sharp.

_Zetho._ I pray you, gentlemen, Bandy not angry words.

_Gycia._ My Lord Asander, Thy cup is empty. Shall I fill it for thee? Thou lovedst Lamachus?

_Asan._ Ay, that I did; And I love thee. But I have drunk enough. I must keep cool to-night.

_Gycia._ Nay; see, I fill My glass to drink with thee.

_Asan._ Well, well, I drink, But not to the Republic.

_Gycia._ Ah! my lord, There is a gulf still yawns 'twixt thee and me Which not the rapture of recovered love Can ever wholly bridge. To my dead father I drink, and the Republic!

_Lys._ Which is dead.

_Bard._ Nay, sir, but living, and shall live when thou Liest rotting with thy schemes.

_Enter_ MEGACLES.

_Meg._ My Lord Asander, A messenger from Bosphorus, just landed, Has bid me give thee this.

[_Gives_ ASANDER _letter._

_Asan._ (_reading_) "My Lord, the King Is dead, asking for thee." Oh, wretched day! Had I but gone to him, and left this place Of sorrow ere he died!

_Gycia._ My love, my dear! Thou wilt go hence too late. I would indeed The law had let thee go. Sorrow like this Draws parted lives in one, and knits anew The rents which time has made.

_Lys._ The King is dead! Ay, then long live the King of Bosphorus! And more ere long!

_Bard._ Think you that he will live To wear his crown?

_Zetho._ Brethren, the hour is late, And draws to midnight, and 'tis time that all Should rest for whom rest is. (_To_ BARDANES _aside_) We must consider What change of policy this weighty change Which makes Asander King may work in us.

_Bard._ (_aside_). Nay, nay, no change! He is a murderer still, And shall be punished were he thrice a king.

_Asan._ Good night to all. And thou, good Megacles, Thou wert my father's servant, take thy rest. Go hence with these.

_Meg._ I have no heart to marshal These dignitaries forth. My King is dead; I am growing old and spent.

_Zetho._ Daughter, remember Thy duty to the State.

_Gycia._ I will, good Zetho. I am my father's daughter. Gentle Sirs And Ladies all, good night.

[_Exeunt omnes except_ ASANDER _and_ GYCIA; LYSIMACHUS _and_ Courtiers _by one door, then the_ Chersonites _by another opposite._

_Asan._ Dearest of women, How well this fair head will become a crown! I know not how it is, but now this blow Has fallen, it does not move me as I thought. I am as those who come in tottering age Even to life's verge, whom loss of friend or child Touches not deeply, since the dead they love Precede them but a stage upon the road Which they shall tread to-morrow. Yet am I Young, and thou too, my Gycia; we should walk The path of life together many years, But that some strange foreboding troubles me. For oh, my dear! now that the sun of love Beams on our days again, my worthless life Grows precious, and I tremble like a coward At dangers I despised. Tell me, my Gycia, Though I am true in love, wouldst thou forgive me If I were false or seemed false to thy State? Hast thou no word for me? May I not tell thee My secret, which so soon all men shall know, And ask thy pardon for it?

_Gycia._ Say on, Asander.

_Asan._ Know, then, that soldiers sent from Bosphorus Have long time hid within our palace here-- Long time before I knew, or I had nipt The treason in the bud; and in an hour Or less from when we speak, they will go forth, When all the citizens are wrapt in sleep After the toilsome day, and seize the gate, And open to the army which lies hid On board the ships without. They will not shed The blood of any, since the o'erwhelming force Will make resistance vain. I never liked The plot, I swear to thee; but, all being done, And I a subject, dared not disavow That which was done without me. But I have forced A promise that no blood be spilt.

_Gycia._ Asander, I have known it all, and have discovered all

[ASANDER _starts._

Thy secret to the Senate! But I knew not, Save by the faith that is the twin with love, That thou didst follow only in this plot, And wert unwilling; and I do rejoice Thy hands are free from blood. But oh, my love, Break from these hateful men! Thou art now a King, Thou canst command. Come, let us fly together; There yet is time! I tell thee that this plot Is doomed to ruin. Ere the morning dawns, All but the guilty leaders will be sent Prisoners to Bosphorus, and thou with them. I have gained this on my knees; but for the guilty The State has punishments.

_Asan._ Gycia, thou wouldst not That I should break my faith? 'Tis a King's part To keep faith, though he die. But when they have seized The city, then, using my kingly office, I will undo the deed, and make alliance With Cherson, and this done I will depart, Taking my Queen with me.

_Gycia._ Then must I go; I cannot live without thee.

_Asan._ Now to rest, If not to sleep.

_Gycia._ Good night, my love; farewell.

_Asan._ Nay, not farewell, my love!

_Gycia._ Ah yes, farewell! Farewell! farewell for ever!

[_Exeunt._