SCENE FIFTH.
[Tent of Cleon the Greek. Cleon, chained, pacing to and fro.]
Cleon. A few short hours and all is o'er,—Cleon sleeps with his fathers. I could have wished to die like a hero in my harness, and have known my grave were watered by my loved one's tears; to take my wife once more unto my bosom; once more bless my noble Ion; and pass hence with the blest consciousness of victory won. 'Tis bitter thus to die, ingloriously and alone. [Proudly raising his head.] But the name of Cleon is too dear unto his people e'er to be forgotten. The memory that he strove ever for his country's welfare shall strew with tearful blessings his unhonored grave. [Steps approach; voices are heard.] Ah, they come! They shall find me ready. [Enter Ion.] Has mine hour come? I am here.
[Ion casts off his cloak, and springs forward.]
Ion. Father! O my father!
Cleon [starting back wildly]. Thou? Here!
Ion. Yes, thy Ion; bless me, Father [kneels].
Cleon [raising and clasping Ion to his breast]. Here, on my heart, dear one. I turn to meet my executioners, and see thee, my boy. Great Heaven, I bless thee! [They embrace tenderly and weep.] Thou camest thither—how?
Ion. Alone, with my good sword.