ost to me forever! Remember thee! Ah, how can I
ever banish thy dear image from this heart that now hath grown so
desolate? I will be true. None shall ever know how hard a struggle hath
been mine, that I might still be worthy thee. Yes, Irene, I will strive
to love thee, and may the gods give me strength; but Ione, Ione, how can
I give thee up! [_Picks up a flower_ Ione _has dropped, and puts it in
his bosom and goes sadly out._]

CURTAIN.

SCENE THIRTEENTH.

[The Queen's _pavilion. A dark curtain
hangs before an alcove. Enter_ Constantine.]

Con. The hour hath come when I shall gaze upon the form of her who hath
cast so dark a shadow o'er my life. Beautiful and young, and blessed
with all that makes her worthy to be loved, and yet I fear I have not
taught my wilful heart the tenderness I ought.

I fear to draw aside the veil that hides her from me, for I cannot
banish the sweet image that forever floats before mine eyes. Ione's soft
gaze is on me, and the lips are whispering, "I love thee!" But I have
promised to be true,--no thoughts of her must lead me now astray. My
fate is here [_approaches the curtain_]. Let me gaze upon it, and think
gently of the wife so soon to be mine own. Why do I fear? Courage, my
heart! [_He draws aside the curtain, and_ Ione, _veiled, appears as a
statue upon its pedestal._] Another veil to raise! How hard the simple
deed hath grown. One last sweet thought of thee, Ione, and then I will
no longer falter. [_He turns away and bows his head._]

Ione. Constantine! [_He starts, and gazes in wonder as the statue,
casting aside the veil, comes down and kneels._] Here at thy feet kneels
thy hated bride,--the "proud, cold princess," asking thee to pardon all
the sorrow she hath given thee. Ah, smile upon me, and forget Ione, who
as a slave hath won thy love, but as the princess will repay
it,--forgive, and love me still!

Con. Thou, thou Irene,--she whom I so feared to look upon? Ah, no!--thou
art Ione, the gentle slave. Say am I dreaming? Why art thou here to make
another parting the harder to be borne? Fling by thy crown and be Ione
again.

Irene [_rising_]. Listen, Constantine, and I will tell thee all. I am
Irene. In my distant home I learned thou didst not love me, and I vowed
to win thy heart before I claimed it. Thus, unknown, the proud princess
served thee as a slave, and learned to love thee