[Exit Adrastus.
Iantha [joyfully]. Hope,—thrice blessed word!—wilt thou indeed visit this doubting heart once more, and sweeten the cup thou hast so long forsaken? [Enter Hafiz.] Welcome! comest thou from my lord? Thy tidings speedily!
Hafiz. To the wife of Cleon, late commander of the rebel Greeks, am I sent to bear tidings of their defeat by Mohammed, now master of all Greece.
Adrastus. And my lord,—the noble Cleon?
Hafiz. Betrayed, defeated, and now lying under sentence of immediate death in the dungeon of the Sultan.
Iantha. Lost! lost! lost! [Falls fainting on a couch.]
[Enter Adrastus.
Adrastus. Daughter, look up!—there is yet hope. There is no time for rest. Up! rouse thy brave, till now, unconquered heart and cast off this spell. And thou, slave, hence,—away!
[Exit Hafiz.
Iantha [rousing]. Defeated, imprisoned, condemned,—words unto one heart fraught with such dire despair. Tell me, Father, oh, tell me truly, do I dream?