... I will not see her more. O, quickly come, Ye stoic angels wont to wait on me, And with the cords of resolution stout Bind ye my purpose to the throne of Zeus That it may shake but with Olympus' self! ... Will she not think me harsh to leave her so? She who is made of all earth's gentle things-- The scent of morn, the first green on the bough, The valley dews where infant blossoms drink, The going light with rose heart yearning back,-- Yet brave, and like a new Hippolita Might wear the belt of Mars. O, flower of heaven, Yet wrapped in soft and strange delirium Of odors once Elysian! Naught to me, Who will not see her more. Now is she dead, And I know but a grave. I'll sleep ... sleep ... sleep. [_Lies still. Enter Aratea. She is veiled, and her unbound hair falls about her form_] _Ara._ [_Drawing inner bolt to door_] I scarce could bribe the guard to let me pass! [_Looks about room and sees Aristocles_] Asleep? [_Crosses to him. Unveils_] Rise, friend! _Aris._ [_Starting_] My dream. _Ara._ Aristocles! _Aris._ [_Rising_] You? you? _Ara._ I, friend. _Aris._ 'Tis you--and yet 'tis not. A stranger soul, disordered and unknown, Looks from your eyes. _Ara._ My brother's false to thee. This castle's murder's trap, and you are caught in 't! _Aris._ I've had some thought 'twas so. I die to-night? _Ara._ No, no! dear Heaven! See! [_Opens door, left_] This inner room. It has a hidden stairway to the sea Where waits a boat will bear you to a sail New-spread for Greece, with crew that know the wave As though begot of mermaids. _Aris._ No! To make Presumptuous end of life is an offence To Heaven, but gracious gods may offer death For honorable choice--as they do now-- And here I choose it. _Ara._ Thy choice then must be mine. My hope was you would fly and hasten Dion To my deliverance. For I am sold. The cords of bondage cut in very flesh. But ask not now of this. This letter here Will tell my lord what I have spared you. Go, Or I've no hope, and then--by this bright blade-- [_showing a dagger_] I die. _Aris._ Ah, what you will! Command me. _Ara._ [_Moving left_] Come! Into this chamber! [_Exeunt, and in a moment re-enter_] O, the door new-sealed! Apollo help us now!... Did you not see The narrow window in that chamber? _Aris._ Ay, The stars looked on us as we passed, as though They smiled to see how man would measure time With periods clept death. _Ara._ [_Fearfully_] If you--could leap---- _Aris._ I will.