Of Bosphorus next heir.

"The tongue hath sworn, the mind remains unsworn,"

So says their poet.

Asan.

I'll have none of it.

15

15

I am not all Greek, but part Cimmerian,

And scorn to break my word.

Let us face ruin, father, not deceit.

King. My noble son, I love thee.

Lys.

Good my liege,

And thou, my Lord Asander, ponder it.

Consider our poor country's gaping wounds,

And what a remedy lies to our hands.

I will die willingly if I devise not

A scheme to bend these upstarts to your will.

[Exeunt omnes.

Scene II.—Outside the palace.

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