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Rh Before thee for the lives of thousands, rich In all that makes life precious to the brave; Who perish not alone, but in their fall Break the far-spreading tendrils that they feed, And leave them nurtureless. If thou wilt hear me For them, I am content to speak no more. Ad. Thou hast thy wish, then.—Crythes! till yon dial Casts its thin shadow on the approaching hour, I hear this gallant traitor. On the instant, Come without word, and lead him to his doom. Now leave us. Cry. What, alone ? Ad. Yes, slave, alone: He is no assassin! [Exit. Tell me who thou art. What generous source owns that heroic blood, Which holds its course thus bravely? What great wars Have nursed the courage that can look on death— Certain and speedy death—with placid eye? Ion. I am a simple youth who never bore The weight of armor ; one who may not boast Of noble birth, or valor of his own. Deem not the powers which nerve me thus to speak In thy great presence, and have made my heart, Upon the verge of bloody death, as calm, As equal in its beatings, as when sleep Approached me nestling from the sportive toils Of thoughtless childhood, and celestial forms Began to glimmer through the deepening shadows Of soft oblivion,—to belong to me! These are the strengths of Heaven; to thee they speak, Bid thee to hearken to thy people's cry, Or warn thee that thy hour must shortly come! Ad. I know it must ; so mayst thou spare thy warnings. The envious gods in me have doomed a race, Whose glories stream from the same cloud-girt founts Whence their own dawn upon the infant world; And I shall sit on my ancestral throne To meet their vengeance ; but till then I rule As I have ever ruled, and thou wilt feel. Ion. I will not further urge thy safety to thee; It may be, as thou sayest, too late; nor seek To make thee tremble at the gathering curse