Cleon. My boy, for thy dear sake do I consent. I will earn thy deliverance bravely, as a soldier should; and thy dear image shall be to me the star that leads me on to victory.
Ion [joyfully]. Away! Hassan will guide thee past the guards. Then fly,—and Heaven guide thee, O my father! [Ion again shrouds Cleon in the mantle, concealing his chains in the thick folds.] Thus muffle thy tell-tale fetters, that no sound may whisper to the Turks there walks a Greek under the free heavens forth to freedom.
Cleon. My Ion, one last embrace! God grant 'tis not our last on earth! Bless thee, thou true young heart! Heaven guard thee!
[Hassan enters in haste.
Hassan. Art ready? We must depart. [Cleon bows his head and follows. Ion rushes after, looking from the tent.]
Ion. Saved! saved! The morning sun that was to shine upon his grave, will smile upon him far, far from foemen's power. And Mohammed, thinking to look upon a dying slave, shall waken to the sound of his victorious war-trump. Ion, thy mission is accomplished. Thou hast given a saviour to thy fatherland, and mayst fall thyself without a murmur [looks up thankfully; a loud noise without].
[Enter Abdallah and Murad.
Abd. Where is the prisoner? Come forth!
Ion. I am here [comes forward].
Abd. Ha!—here is treason! Without there!—the prisoner hath escaped!