Chapter 33

_VARDANES, EVANTHE, LYSIAS, to them, an OFFICER._

OFFICER.

Haste! my Lord! Or all will soon be lost; tho' thrice repuls'd By your e'erfaithful guards, they still return With double fury.

VARDANES.

Hence, then, idle love-- Come forth, my trusty sword--curs'd misfortune!-- Had I but one short hour, without reluctance, I'd meet them, tho' they brib'd the pow'rs of hell, To place their furies in the van: Yea, rush To meet this dreadful Brother 'midst the war-- Haste to the combat--Now a crown or death-- The wretch who dares to give an inch of ground Till I retire, shall meet the death he shun'd. Away--away! delays are dang'rous now--