9–11
Clotho
Creature, this is no single day’s reprieve: you would want something like twenty years.
10
Megapenthes.
Oh, but I am quite prepared to give security for my expeditious return, Nay, I could provide a substitute, if preferred;—my well-beloved!
Clotho
Wretch! How often have you prayed that he might survive you!
Megapenthes.
That was a long time ago. New,—I see a better use for him.
Clotho
But he is due to be here, shortly, let me tell you. He is to be put to death by the new sovereign.
Megapenthes.
Well, Clotho, I hope you will not refuse my last request.
Megapenthes.
I should like to know how things will be, now that I am gone.
Clotho
Certainly; you shall have that mortification. Your wife will pass into the hands of Midas, your slave; he has been her gallant for some time past.
Megapenthes.
Acurse on him! 'Twas at her request that I gave him his freedom.
5
Clotho
Your daughter will take her place in the harem of the present monarch. ‘Then all the old statues and portraits which the city set up in your honour will be overturned,—to the entertainment, no doubt, of the spectators.
Megapenthes.
And will no friend resent these doings?
Clotho
Who was your friend? Who had any reason to be? Need I explain that the cringing courtiers who lauded your every word and deed were actuated either by hope or by fear —time-servers every man of them, with a keen eye to the main chance?
Megapenthes.
And these are they whose feasts rang with my name! who, as they poured their libations, invoked every blessing on my head! Not one but would have died before me, could he have had his will; nay, they swore by no other name.
