Cleon. Truth speaketh in thine earnest eye and pleading voice, and yet I dare not listen to thy tale.
Ion. Oh, Father, heed not thy fears, thy doubts! Take thy liberty, believing it heaven-sent. No oath binds thee to Mohammed; thou art no rightful prisoner of war,—neither duty nor honor doth demand thy stay. Thy country calls, and Heaven doth point the way.
Cleon. 'Tis true; no oath doth bind me to the Turk, and yet to fly—My soldier's spirit doth ill brook such retreat.
Ion. Then stay not, my father, but whilst thou may, depart.
Cleon. Bright hopes call me hence. Life, love, fame, beckon me away.
[Hassan looks in.]
Hassan. The promised hour hath well-nigh gone. Prepare, young Greek; we must away.
Ion. A moment more. [Exit Hassan.] Father, time wanes. Once more I do entreat thee,—go!
Cleon. Heaven grant I choose aright! Come Ion, we will forth together. [Ion folds the cloak about Cleon; gives him the ring.] Come, let us go.
Ion. Nay, but one can pass forth. Thou goest. I await the morning here.