 | 1. |
 | 2. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 8. |
| 9. |
| 10. |
| 11. |
| 12. |
| 13. |
| 14. |
| 15. |
| 16. |
| 3. |
 | Siroes |  |
SCENE XVIII.
Enter Siroes, his sword drawn.Sir.
[interposing.]
Emira, hold! what dost thou?
Fear not, my father, Siroes is your guard.
Em.
O! cruel fate!
[aside.
Cos.
And dost thou live, my son!
Sir.
I live, and live to die in your defence.
Cos.
And who preserv'd thy life.
| Siroes | |