ly one. No, no; it may not be,--thy tender
youth, thy gentle, untried spirit. 'Tis madness e'en to think on!

Ion. Mother, am I not a soldier's son, cradled 'mid warriors? Runs not
the blood of heroes in these veins? Are not my father's deeds, his
bright, untarnished name, my proud inheritance? What though this tender
form is yet untried; what though these arms have never borne the
knightly armor? No victor's laurels rest on this youthful brow, and I
bear no honored name among the great and glorious of our land; yet,
Mother, have I not a father, for whose dear sake I may yet purchase that
knighthood for which this young heart glows? Am I not the son of Cleon?

Adrastus. Verily doth a spirit move the boy. Look on him now, Iantha,
and let no weak, unworthy doubt of thine curb the proud spirit that
proves him worthy of his sire.

Iantha. My son, my fair, young Ion, thou art all now left my widowed
heart. How can I bid thee go! The barbarous pagan will doom thee to a
cruel death. How canst thou, an unknown youth, move the fierce heart
that hath slain thy sire?

Ion. Fear not, Mother; he who calls me to this glorious mission will
protect me. Shall I stand weeping while my father still breathes the air
of pagan dungeons; while the base fetters of the infidel rest on his
limbs, and his brave followers lie unavenged in their cold, bloody
graves; while my country's banner, torn, dishonored, is trampled in the
dust,--and he the proud, the brave, till now unconquered defender of
that country's honor, lies doomed to an ignominious death? Oh, Mother,
bid me go!

Adrastus. Iantha, speak to the boy! Let him not say his _mother_ taught
him fear.

Iantha. My Ion, go,--strong in thine innocence and faith, go forth upon
thy holy mission; and surely He who looketh ever with a loving face on
those who put their trust in Him, will in His mercy guard and guide thee
[_girds on his sword_]. Farewell! Go,--with thy mother's blessing on
thee!

Ion. Now is my heart filled all anew with hope and courage, and I go
forth trustingly. Father, thy blessing [_kneels before_ Adrastus].

Adrastus. Go, thou self-anointed victim on the altar of thy love. Bless
thy pure, faithful heart!

Ion [_rising_]. Farewell! Embrace me, Mother.

Iantha [_pressing_ Ion _to her breast_]. Farewell, my Ion. And if the
great Father wills it that I look not again on thee in life, into His
care do I commit thee. Farewell!

Ion. Mother, farewell! And if I fall, mou