Am I really a prisoner? A prisoner? A worthy commencement this of my apprenticeship in war. O ye gods! O my father! How gladly would I persuade myself that all was but a dream! My earliest years have never dreamt of anything but arms and camps, battles and assaults. Could not the youth too be dreaming now of loss and defeat? Do not delude thyself thus, Philotas!--If I did not see, did not feel the wound through which the sword dropped from my palsied hand.--They have dressed it for me against my will! O cruel mercy of a cunning foe! "It is not mortal," said the surgeon, and thought to console me. Wretch, it should be mortal! And one wound only, only one! Did I know that I should make it mortal by tearing it open and dressing it and tearing it open again.--I rave, unhappy wretch. And with what a scornful face--I now recall it--that aged warrior looked at me--who snatched me from my horse! He called me--child! His king, too, must take me for a child, a pampered child. To what a tent he has had me brought! Adorned and provided with comforts of every sort! It must belong to one of his mistresses! A disgusting place for a soldier! And instead of being guarded, I am served. O mocking civility! Scene II. Strato. Philotas. STRATO. Prince-- PHILOTAS. Another visitor already? Old man, I like to be alone! STRATO. Prince! I come by order of the king. PHILOTAS. I understand you! It is true, I am the king's prisoner, and it rests with him how he will have me treated. But listen: if you are the man whose features you bear,--if you are an old and honest warrior, have pity on me, and beg the king to have me treated as a soldier, not as a woman. STRATO. He will be with you directly; I come to announce his approach. PHILOTAS. The king with me? And you come to announce him? I do not wish that he should spare me one of the humiliations to which a prisoner must submit. Come, lead me to him! After the disgrace of having been disarmed, nothing is disgraceful to me now. STRATO. Prince! Your countenance, so full of youthful graces, bespeaks a softer heart! PHILOTAS. Mock not my countenance! Your visage, full of scars, is assuredly a more handsome face. STRATO. By the gods! A grand answer! I must admire and love you. PHILOTAS. I would not object if only you had feared me first. STRATO. More and more heroic! We have the most terrible of enemies before us, if there are many like Philotas amongst his youths. PHILOTAS.