With them the margin of the inky flood,
Mournful and calm;-'tis surely there;-she waves
Her pallid hand in circle o'er thy head,

As if to bless thee; and I bless thee too,
Death's gracious angel!

Do not turn away.

Ion. Gods! to what office have ye doomed me! Now! [Ion raises his arm to stab Adrastus, who is kneeling, and gazes steadfastly upon him. The voice of Medon is heard without, calling, Ion! Ion!" Ion drops his arm.]

Adras.

Be quick, or thou art lost!

Medon.

behind him.]

Ion, forbear.

Behold thy son, Adrastus! [Ion stands

[Ton stands for a moment stupified with horror, drops the knife, and falls senseless.] Adras. What strange words

Are these, which call my senses from the death

They were composed to welcome? Son! 'tis false

I had but one-and the deep wave rolls o'er him!

Medon That wave received, instead of the fair nursling,

One of the slaves who bore him from thy sight

In wicked haste to slay ;-I'll give thee proofs.

Adras. Great Jove, I thank thee! raise him gentlyproofs !

Are there not here the lineaments of her

Who made me happy once-the voice, now still,
That bade the long-sealed fount of love gush out,

While with a prince's constancy he came
To lay his noble life down; and the sure,
The dreadful proof, that he whose guileless brow
Is instinct with her spirit, stood above me,
Armed for the traitor's deed?-it is my child!

[Ion, reviving, sinks on one knee, before Adrastus.] Ion. Father! [Noise without.]

Medon. The clang of arms!

Ion. [Starting up] They come ! they come! They who are leagued with me against thy life. Here let us fall.

Adras. I will confront them yet.

Within I have a weapon which has drank

A traitor's blood ere now; there will I wait them:
No power less strong than death shall part us now.
[Exeunt Adrastus and Ton, as into an inner chamber.]
Medon. Have mercy on him, gods, for the dear sake
Of your most single-hearted worshiper.

[Enter Ctesiphon. Cassander, and others.]

Ctesiphon. What treachery is this?-the tyrant fled,
And Ion fled too! Comrades, stay this dotard,
While I search in yonder chamber.

Medon. Spare him. friends,

Spare him to clasp awhile his new-found son;
Spare him, as Ion's father!

Cte. Father yes

That is indeed a name to bid me spare :

Let me but find him, gods! [Rushes into the inner chamber.] Medon. [To Cassander and the others.] Had ye but seen What I have seen, ye would have mercy on him.

[Cyrthes enters with soldiers.]

Ha! soldiers! hasten to defend your master;

That way-[As Cyrthes is about to enter the inner chamber, Ctesiphon rushes from it with a bloody dagger and stops them.]

Cte. It is accomplished; the foul blot

Is wiped away. Shade of my murdered father,

Look on thy son. and smile!

Cyrthes.

Whose blood is that?

It cannot be the king's!

Cte. It cannot be !

Think'st thou, foul minion of a tyrant's will,
He was to crush, and thou to crawl forever?
Look there, and tremble!

Cyr. Wretch! thy life shall pay

The forfeit of this deed. [Cyrthes and soldiers seize Ctesi

phon:]

[Enter Adrastus, mortally wounded, supported by Ion.] Adras. Here let me rest.

In this old chamber did my life begin,

And here I'll end it. Cyrthes! thou hast timed

Thy visit well, to bring thy soldiers hither,

To gaze upon my parting.

Cyr. To avenge thee;

Here is the traitor!

Adras. Set him free at once;

Why do ye not obey me?

I

Ctesiphon,

gave thee cause for this; believe me now,

That thy true steel has made thy vengeance sure;

And as we now stand equal, I will sue

For a small boon-let me not see thee more.

Cte. Farewell! [Exit.]

Adras. [To Cyrthes and soldiers.] Why do ye tarry here? Begone!-still do ye hover round my couch?

If the commandment of a dying king

Is feeble, as a man who has embraced
His child for the first time since infancy,

And presently must part with him forever,

I do adjure ye, leave us! [Exeunt all but Ion and Adrastus.] Ion. Oh, my father!

How is it with thee now?

Adras. Well; very well;

Avenging Fate hath spent its utmost force

Against me; and I gaze upon my son,

With the sweet certainty that naught can part us

Till all is quiet here. How like a dream,

Seems the succession of my regal pomps,

Since I embraced thy helplessness! To me

The interval hath been a weary one:

How hath it passed with thee?

Ion. But that my heart

Hath sometimes ached for the sweet sense of kindred,

I had enjoyed a round of happy years

As cherished youth e'er knew.

Adras. I bless the gods

That they have strewn along thy humble path,

Delights unblamed; and in this hour I seem

Even as I had lived so; and I feel

That I shall live in thee, unless that curse-
Oh, if it should survive me!

Ion. Think not of it;

The gods have shed such sweetness in this moment,
That, howsoe'er they deal with me hereafter,

I shall not deem them angry. Let me call

For help to staunch thy wound; thou art strong yet,
And yet may live to bless me.

Adras. Do not stir;

My strength is ebbing fast; yet. as it leaves me,
The spirit of my stainless days of love
Awakens and their images of joy,

Which at thy voice started from blank oblivion,

When thou wert strange to me, and then half shown
Looked sadly through the mist of guilty years,

Now glimmer on me in the lovely light,

Which at thy age they wore. Thou art all thy mother's, Her elements of gentlest virtue cast

In mold heroical.

Ion. Thy speech grows fainter; Can I do nothing for thee?

Adras. Yes-my son,

Thou art the best, the bravest, of a race

Of rightful monarchs; thou must mount the throne

Thy ancestors have filled, and by great deeds

Efface the memory of thy fated sire,

And win the blessings of the gods for men

Stricken for him. Swear to me thou wilt do this,

And I shall die forgiven.

Ion. I will.

Adras. Rejoice,

Sufferers of Argos! I am growing weak,
And my eyes dazzle: let me rest my hands,
Ere they have lost their feeling, on thy head.
So! so! thy hair is glossy to the touch,
As when I last enwreathed its tiny curl
About my finger; I did imagine then,
Thy reign excelling mine; it is fulfilled,

And I die happy. Bless thee, King of Argos! [Dies.]
Ion. He's dead! and I am fatherless again.

King, did he hail me? Shall I make that word

A spell to bid old happiness awake

Throughout the lovely land that father'd me
In my forsaken childhood?

[He sees the knife on the ground, and picks it up.] The voice of joy!

Is this thy funeral wailing? Oh, my father!
Mournful and brief will be the heritage

Thou leavest me; yet I promised thee in death,
To grasp it; and I will embrace it now.
[Enter Agenor and others.]

Agenor. Does the king live?
Ion. Alas! in me. The son
Of him whose princely spirit is at rest,
Claims his ancestral honors.

Age. That high thought

Anticipates the prayer of Argos, roused
To sudden joy. The sages wait without
To greet thee wilt confer with them to-night,
Or wait the morning?

Ion. Now the city's state

Allows the past no sorrow.

I attend them.

[Exeunt.]

XXXVII.-FROM WILLIAM TELL.-Knowles.

GESLER-SARNEM-RODOLPH-GERARD-LUTOLD

SENTINEL

-TELL-VERNER-ERNI- MELCTAL-FURST-MICHAEL

THEODORE-PIERRE-ALBERT-SAVOYARDS

DIERS-PEOPLE.

Scene 1.-The Field of Grutli.

[Enter Tell, with a long bow.]

EMMA SOL

Tell. Ye crags and peaks, I'm with you once again! I hold to you the hands you first beheld,

To show they still are free.

O, sacred forms. how proud you look!

How high you lift your heads into the sky!

How huge you are! how mighty and how free!

Ye guards of liberty,

I'm with you once again! I call to you

With all my voice! I rush to you,

As though I could embrace you!

Erni. [Without.] William! William!
Tell. [Looks out.] Here, Erni, here!