Wouldst thou wed, Asander,

If 'twere to save the State, a Greek from Cherson?

Asan. From Cherson? Nay, my liege; that were too much.

9

9

A girl from out that cockatrice's den—

Take such a one to wife? I would liefer take

A viper to my breast! Nay, nay, you jest,

My father, for you hate this low-born crew,

Grown gross by huckstering ways and sordid craft—

Ay, more than I.

King.

It is no jest, my son.

Our good Lysimachus will tell thee all

Our need and whence it comes.

Lys.

My gracious Prince,

Thus stands the case, no otherwise. Our foes

Press closer year by year, our widespread plains

Are ravaged, and our bare, unpeopled fields

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