It is drawn up (_holds out scroll_). Twenty names stand written here, each signed by his own hand, each guaranteeing three hundred men of arms---- _Phocion_ Whom we can trust? _First Citizen_ The names are guarantee, as you will see--the best in Athens. _Second Citizen_ Ready to live or die as our beloved city lives--or dies. _Lysander_ And thousands more will follow once we show the way. _Phocion_ Our forlorn hope (_takes the scroll_) is favoured of the Gods, and will be led by them. [_Begins to read names._ _Citizen_ Upon great leadership hangs success or failure. There can be one leader only. _Citizens_ Phocion! Phocion! _Lysander_ Phocion is our leader. [_PHOCION reads silently. LYSANDER suddenly turns his head towards the moon-lit courtyard._ (_Low._) I saw a figure pass. _Citizen_ A few moments ago I saw one too--between the pillars. _Another Citizen_ Are we alone here? _Phocion_ (_Looking up._) My wife--and her maidens--are about. We are alone. _First Citizen_ Once read, Phocion, the list must be instantly destroyed. Each signature is a warrant for the writer’s death. _Lysander_ (_Nervously._) I counsel haste. The very stones move as with footsteps. The sky has eyes. [_Turns towards a burning brazier close behind him._ _Phocion_ (_Calmly._) I have read. The names are--what Athens would expect. _Lysander_ Then let me burn it. _First Citizen_ (_Rising._) Phocion, in the names you read, and in the names of all assembled here, we offer you the leadership--the military leadership. We ask you to lead our beloved city back to liberty again. (_Muffled applause._) [_While PHOCION has been reading, a woman’s figure is seen creeping from pillar to pillar where the shadows are deepest. She is followed closely by a second figure--a man swathed in a head-dress such as that worn by the Persian warrior in the Elgin Marbles. Unnoticed in the dimness they reach the colonnades where they can hear all that passes._ _Phocion_ (_Slowly._) Citizens, in the name of Athens, and with the approval of the deathless Gods of Athens--I accept the leadership. [_He hands the scroll to LYSANDER, who has stepped forward eagerly to seize it. LYSANDER turns towards the fire._ _First Citizen_ Then we are half-way to success already. (_Applause._) The sooner we disband, the better. Three of us may stay with Phocion to decide the final---- [_At this moment the cloaked figure steps out into the centre of the courtyard. He is plainly visible in the moonlight. Consternation reigns. PHOCION reaches for his sword. LYSANDER fumbles over the brazier, thrusting the scroll into the flames. The CITIZENS stand firm, not trying to hide, but visibly startled._ _Citizen_ We are betrayed! _Citizen_ A spy! We have been overheard! _Citizen_ A Persian! _Phocion_