A TRAGEDY.
285
With such a band, methinks, all things are possible.
MARTHON (smiling).
Who in gay banquets spend'st thy giddy nights,
And o'er some sculptur'd stone, or ancient lore,
Each idle morning waft'st in the cool shade,
Thou speakest with a bold and warlike voice!
OTHUS (throwing back his cloak, and shewing under it a warlike garb, with the scarf and devices belonging to the imperial band).
Behold what now I am! thou shrinkest back,
And looked strangely on me: give thy lips
No friendly blessing to my new estate?
MARTHON.
OTHUS.
Amen! but thou art cold. (Sound of artillery is heard again.)
O hear that sound!Doth it not stir thee as it thund'ring growls
Along the distant shore?(Shaking his head.)
It doth not stir thee!
Is that the sound of female voices near us?
MARTHON.
