n, the
shouts of victory; 'neath the banner of his country, the gratitude of a
nation, the glory of a hero round his brow,--death were a happy, ay, a
welcome friend. But alone, 'mid foes, disgraced by fetters, dragged to a
dishonored grave, with none to whisper of hope or comfort, death is a
cruel, a most bitter foe.

Zuleika. Mine errand is to take from that death the bitterness thou dost
mourn, to give a parting joy to the life now passing.

Ion. Oh, hast thou the power to save my father's life! Oh, use it now,
and Greece shall bless thee for thy mercy!

Zuleika. Oh, that the power _were_ mine, how gladly would I use it in a
cause so glorious! I am but a woman, and tho' the heart is strong, the
arm is very weak. I cannot save thy father, but trust I may still cheer
the parting hours with a brief happiness.

Ion. Lady, thy words of kindly sympathy fall like sweet music on my
troubled heart, and at thy magic call hope springeth up anew. Thou art
unknown, and yet there is that within that doth whisper I may trust
thee.

Zuleika. Thou mayst indeed. Heaven were not more true than I will be
unto my word. [Hassan _pauses before the door_.]

Hassan. Lady, the hours are fleeting. It were best to make good speed.

Zuleika. Hassan, thou dost counsel aright; morn must not find me here.
[_To_ Ion.] Young Greek, thou knowest with the coming dawn thy father
dies.

Ion. Ay, ere another moon doth rise that life, so dear to Greece, shall
be no more; the heart that beat so nobly at his country's call be still
forever,--I know it well!

Zuleika. And hast thou no last word for him, no parting wish?

Ion. O maiden, my life were a glad sacrifice, so that I might for a
single hour look on him,--for the last time say, "My father, bless thy
Ion."

Zuleika. That hour shall be thine. Fold thyself in yonder cloak, and
follow me.

Ion. Follow thee,--and whither?

Zuleika. To thy father's presence. Thou shalt spend with him the last
hours of his earthly life. Stay not; this friendly gloom will ere long
pass away.

Ion [_falling on his knees and catching her robe_]. Art thou my guardian
angel? Oh, may the consolation thou hath poured into a suffering soul,
fall like heaven's dew upon thine own; and if the prayers of a grateful
heart bring hope and joy and peace, thy life shall bloom with choicest
blessings. O maiden, how do I bless thee! [_Kisses her robe._]

Zuleika. Speak not of that,--kneel not to me, a mortal maiden. Thy
gra