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, 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. 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. SCENE FIFTH. [_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. [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?