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SCENE V.
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SCENE V.

Aspasia, Neocles.
Asp.
O! Neocles.

Neoc.
Aspasia.

Asp.
O! my brother!

Neoc.
What dreadful stroke is this!

Asp.
O! most unhappy!
And whither shall we go?

Neoc.
To prove us worthy

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Of such a father, [firmly.]
Let us hence, my sister,

And see, intrepid see, Themistocles
Thus triumph o'er himself.—Our noble bearing
Will make his death more pleasing.

Asp.
Let us go:
—Alas! I cannot—still my trembling feet—

[sits.
Neoc.
And will you thus disgrace the birth you boast?

Asp.
And can your constancy support the sight?

Neoc.
What I may want his virtue shall supply.
While from his features, pale in death,
The beams of virtue shine,
The courage in his latest breath
Shall give new force to mine.
A father calls me hence to show
A son's undaunted breast;
To obey a father's call I go,
And leave to Fate the rest.

[Exit.