ACT I.

Scene I.—Bosphorus. The King's palace. The King, in anxious thought. To him Lysimachus, afterwards Asander

Scene I.

King

Lysimachus

Asander

Enter Lysimachus.

Lysimachus

Lys. What ails the King, that thus his brow is bent

By such a load of care?

King.

Lysimachus,

The load of empire lies a weary weight,

On age-worn brains; tho' skies and seas may smile,

And steadfast favouring Fortune sit serene,

2

2

Guiding the helm of State, but well thou knowest—

None better in my realm—through what wild waves,

Quicksands, and rock-fanged straits, our Bosphorus,

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