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Enter a Convert.

Whence comest thou, Fearon? Why wert thou prevented
From joining in our last respectful homage
To those, who have so nobly for the truth
Laid down their lives?

CONVERT.

I have been watching near the grated dungeon

Where Ethocles, the Grecian, is immured.

FATHER.

Thou say'st not so! A heavier loss than this,

If they have seiz'd on him, the righteous cause
Could not have suffer'd. Art thou sure of it?
We had not heard of his return from Syria.

CONVERT.

It is too true: he landed ten days since

On the Brundusian coast, and, as he enter'd
The gates of Rome, was seized and dragg'd to prison.

FATHER.

And we in utter ignorance of this!

CONVERT.

He travell'd late and unaccompanied,

So this was done at night-fall and conceal'd.
But see his writing given me by a guard,
Who has for pity's sake betray'd his trust:
It is address'd to thee. (Giving him a paper.)