The scene changes to Arcady. Eight years have passed. _Queen Adrea_ has come to Arcady, and there she would remain at rest. But her people call her back to Adrea. The stanch _Arkissus_,--who has always loved her, whose one thought is of duty, and whose duty is to obey,--brings the prayer of her subjects that she will return and rule over them. But here are green fields, summer skies, and the shepherds and their pastoral music: it is a halcyon place and time; and she would remain, and linger, and die here, and rest beneath the sod that she and her first lover once trod together. A trumpet sounds, and a captive youth is brought into her presence. He is the son of _Kaeso_ and _Julia_, and he has sought the throne of _Adrea_. He is vanquished, and his mother, _Julia_, has been slain. But there are tears in _Queen Adrea’s_ eyes, as she looks upon him, and her arms open to him--for he has the port and lineaments of _Kaeso_. The _Queen_ and the captive play a game,--“the Game of Being King.” _Adrea_ places the youth on her throne, sets her crown on his head, puts her sceptre into his hands, throws her ermine on his shoulders, and bids him “Reign in love.” “Open the casement,” cries the captive boy, “Let in the sun, if you play fair and set no trap for me!” “At the King’s command,” she answers; and in those words ordains her fate, for _Adrea_ cannot again look upon the sun without loss of her vision. She flings the casement wide open, and, in the sudden blaze of light, goes blind: then, when the agony is past and night has come again, she staggers to the throne and cries, “Long live the King!” For still the law of succession is inexorable,--and so _Prince Vasha_ reigns, and _Adrea_ is once more only _Adrea of Arcady_.