 | Eurydice |  |
SCENE VIII.
Periander, Eurydice, Melissa.Melissa.
O! my Lord,
Some wonderous birth of fate is sure disclosing.
Procles calls out to arms: his guards swarm round him,
Haste in each step, and fear in every eye.
This way too Medon speeds, and in his train
A gloomy band of soldiers.
Periander.
Let him come.
Death has no terrors, when to live is shame.
| Eurydice | |