And those pale quivering lips! He clasps my hand: What, no assistance! monsters, will thus you Let him expire in these weak feeble arms?

Enter PHILOTAS.

Phil. Those wild, those piercing shrieks will give the alarm!

Euph. Support him; bear him hence; 'tis all I ask.

Evan. [As he is carried off. O death! where art thou? Death, thou dread of guilt! Thou wish of innocence, affliction's friend, Tired nature calls thee; come, in mercy come, And lay me pillowed in eternal rest.

My child-where art thou? give me-reach thy hand

Why dost thou weep? My eyes are dry-alas! Quite parched, my lipsquite parched, they cleave together.

Euph. Now judge, ye powers, in the whole round of time,

If e'er you viewed a scene of woe like this!

Enter ARCAS.

[Exeunt.

Arc. The grey of morn breaks through yon eastern clouds.

'Twere time this interview should end: the hour Now warns Euphrasia hence: what man could dare,

I have indulged-Philotas! ha! the cell
Left void! Evander gone! What may this mean?
Philotas, speak !

Enter PHILOTAS.

Phil. Oh! vile, detested lot,
Here to obey the savage tyrant's will,

And murder virtue, that can thus behold
Its executioner, and smile upon him.
That piteous sight!

Arc. She must withdraw, Philotas ;
Delay undoes us both. The restless main
Glows with the blush of day. Timoleon's fleet,
That passed the night in busy preparation,
Makes from the shore. On the high craggy
point

Of yonder jutting eminence, I marked

Their haughty streamers curling to the wind.
He seeks Hamilcar's fleet. The briny deep
Shall soon be dyed with blood. The fierce alarm
Will rouse our slumbering troops. The time re-
quires,

Without or further pause, or vain excuse,
That she depart this moment.

Phil, Arcas, yes;

My voice shall warn her of the approaching dan

That sudden haste, that pale disordered look? Enter PHILOTAS.

Phil. Oh! I can hold no more; at such a sight

Even the hard heart of tyranny would melt
To infant softness. Arcas, go, behold
The pious fraud of charity and love;
Behold that unexampled goodness;
See the expedient sharp necessity has taught her;
Thy heart will burn, will melt, will yearn to view
A child like her.

Arc. Ha! Say what mystery
Wakes these emotions?

Phil. Wonder-working virtue !
The father fostered at his daughter's breast!
O, filial piety! the milk designed
For her own offspring, on the parent's lip
Allays the parching fever.

Arc. That device

Has she then formed, eluding all our care,
To minister relief!

Phil. On the bare earth

Evander lies; and as his languid powers
Imbibe with eager thirst the kind refreshment,
And his looks speak unutterable thanks,
Euphrasia views him with the tenderest glance,
Even as a mother doating on her child :
And, ever and anon, amidst the smiles
Of pure delight, of exquisite sensation,
A silent tear steals down; the tear of virtue,
That sweetens grief to rapture. All her laws
Inverted quite, great nature triumphs still,

Arc. The tale unmans my soul,
Phil. Ye tyrants, hear it!

And learn, that while your cruelty prepares
Unheard-of torture, virtue can keep pace
With your worst efforts, and can try new modes,
To bid men grow enamoured of her charms.

Arc. Philotas, for Euphrasia, in her cause,
I now can hazard all. Let us preserve
Her father for her.

Phil. Oh! her lovely daring Transcends all praise. By Heaven he shall not die!

Arc. And yet we must be wary; I will go forth,

And first explore each avenue around,
Lest the fixed centinel obstruct our purpose.

[Exit.

Phil. I thank thee, Arcas; we will act like

men

Who feel for others' woes-she leads him forth, And tremblingly supports his drooping age. [Goes to assist him.

Enter EUPHRASIA and EVANDER. Evan. Euphrasia, oh, my child! returning life Glows here about my heart. Conduct me forward:

At the last gasp preserved! Ha! dawning light! Let me behold; in faith I see thee now;

I do indeed: the father sees his child! Euph. I have relieved him-Oh! the joy's toe great;

'Tis speechless rapture!

Evan. Blessings, blessings on thee!

lotas,

Evan. Whither, oh! whither shall Evander go!

I am at the goal of life; if in the race
Honour has followed with no lingering step,
But there sits smiling with her laurelled wreath
To crown my brow, there would I fain make halt,
And not inglorious lay me down to rest.

Euph. And will you then refuse, when thus
the gods
Afford a refuge to thee?
Evan. Oh! my child,
There is no refuge for me.
Euph. Pardon, sir:

Euphrasia's care has formed a safe retreat;

Burst yon devoted walls.

Evan. Timoleon!

Euph. Yes,

The brave Timoleon, with the power of Greece, Another day shall make the city his.

Evan. Timoleon come to vindicate my rights! Oh! thou shalt reign in Sicily! my child Shall grace her father's throne. Indulgent Heaven!

Pour down your blessings on this best of danghters;

To her and Phocion give Evander's crown; Let them, oh! let them both in virtue wear it, And in due time transmit it to their boy!

SCENE L-A rampart near the harbour.

Enter MELANTHON and PHILOTAS. Melan. And lives he still?

Phil. He does; and kindly aliment Renews the spirngs of life.

Melan. And doth he know

The glorious work the destinies prepare?
Phil. He is informed of all.
Melan. That Greek Timoleon
Comes his deliverer, and the fell usurper

Pants in the last extreme?

Phil. The glorious tidings Have reached his ear.

Melan. Lead on, propitious powers, Your great design! second the Grecian arms, And whelm the sons of Carthage in the deep. Phil. This hour decides their doom; and lo! Euphrasia

Stands on the jutting rock, that rock, where oft Whole days she sat in pensive sorrow fixed, And swelled, with streaming tears, the restless

deep.

Evander, if thou mock'st me not, shall live
Once more to see the justice of the gods.
But wilt thou still protect my royal master
Wilt thou admit me to his wished-for presence?
Phil. Let it suffice that no assassin's aim
Can now assault him: I must hence, Melanthon;
I now must mingle with the tyrant's train,
And, with a semblance of obsequious duty,
Delude suspicion's eye: My friend, farewell.

[Exit. Melan. If he deceive me not with specious hopes,

I shall behold the sovereign, in whose service
These temples felt the iron casque of war,
And these white hairs have silvered o'er my head.
Enter EUPHRASIA.

Euph. See there; behold them; lo! the fierce

encounter!

He rushes on; the ocean flames around

[Exit.

Melan. The gods are with us,

And victory is ours.

Euph. High on the stern

The Grecian leaders stand: they stem the surge; Launched from their arm the missive lightnings flv,

And the Barbaric fleet is wrapt in fire.

And lo! yon bark, down in the roaring gulf; And there, more, more are perishing-Behold! They plunge, for ever lost.

Melan. So perish all,

'Who from yon continent unfurl their sails, To shake the freedom of this sea-girt isle!

Euph. Did I not say, Melanthon, did I not Presage the glories of limoleon's triumph! Where now are Afric's sons? The vanquished tyrant

Shall look aghast; his heart shall shrink appalled, And dread his malefactions! Worse than famine, Despair shall fasten on him!

Enter DIONYSIUS, &c.

Dion. Base deserters!

Curse on their Punic faith! Did they once dare To grapple with the Greek! Ere yet the main Was tinged with blood, they turned their ships

averse.

May storms and tempests follow in the rear,
And dash their fleet upon the Lybian shore!
Enter CALIPPUS.

Cal. My liege, Timoleon, where the harbour
opens,

Has stormed the forts, and even now his fleet Pursues its course, and steers athwart the bay. Dion. Ruin impends; and yet, if fall it must, I bear a mind to meet it, undismayed,

Away, my friends, prepare the sacred rites.
[Exeunt CALIPPUS, &c.
Philotas, thou draw near: how fares your prisoner?
Has he yet breathed his last?

Phil. Life ebbs apace;

To-morrow's sun sees him a breathless corse. Dion. Curse on his lingering pangs! Sicilia's

crown

No more shall deck his brow; and if the sand Still loiter in the glass, thy hand, my friend, May shake it thence.

Phil. It shall, dread sir; that task Leave to thy faithful servant.

Dion. Oh! Philotas,

Thou little know'st the cares, the pangs of empire.
The ermined pride, the purple, that adorns
A conqueror's breast, but serves, my friend, to
hide

A heart that's torn, that's mangled with remorse.
Each object round me wakens horrid doubts;
The flattering train, the centinel that guards me,
The slave that waits, all give some new alarm,
And from the means of safety dangers rise.
Even victory itself plants anguish here,
And round my laurels the fell serpent twines.
Phil. Would Dionysius abdicate his crown,
And sue for terms of peace?

Dion. Detested thought!

No, though ambition teem with countless ills,
It still has charms of power to fire the soul.
Though horrors multiply around my head,
I will oppose them all. The pomp of sacrifice,
But now ordained, is mockery to Heaven.
'Tis vain, 'tis fruitless; then let daring guilt
Be my inspirer, and consummate all.
Where are those Greeks, the captives of my
sword,

Whose desperate valour rushed within our walls

Fought near our person, and the pointed lance Aimed at my breast?

Phil. In chains they wait their doom.

Dion. Give me to see them; bring the slaves before me.

Phil. What, ho! Melanthon! this way lead your prisoners.

Enter MELANTHON, with PHOCION, disguised

as a Greek Officer, and Soldiers. Dion. Assassins, and not warriors! do ye come, When the wide rage of battle claims your sword, Thus do you come against a single life To wage the war? Did not our buckler ring With all your darts, in one collected volley, Showered on my head? Did not your swords at

once

Point at my breast, and thirst for regal blood? Greek Offi. We sought thy life. I am by birth a Greek.

An open foe, in arms, I meant to slay
The foe of human kind. With rival ardour
We took the field; one voice, one mind, one
heart;

All leagued, all covenanted: in yon camp
Spirits there are who aim, like us, at glory.
Whene'er you sally forth, whene'er the Grecks
Shall scale your walls, prepare thee to encounter
A like assault. By me the youth of Greece
Thus notify the war they mean to wage.
Dion. Thus, then, I warn them of my great

Melan. Unhappy men! how shall my care protect

Your forfeit lives? Philotas, thou conduct them To the deep dungeon's gloom. In that recess, 'Midst the wild tumult of eventful war,

We may ward off the blow. My friends, farewell:

That officer will guide your steps.

[All follow PHILOTAS, except PHOCION. Pho. Disguised

Thus in a soldier's garb, he knows me not. Melanthon!

Melan. Ha!-Those accents!-Phocion here? Pho. Yes, Phocion here! Speak, quickly tell me, say,

How fares Euphrasia?

VOL. II.

The event of lingering war? With patience count
The lazy-pacing hours, while here in Syracuse
The tyrant keeps all that my heart holds dear?
For her dear sake, all dangers sink before me;
For her I burst the barriers of the gate,
Where the deep caverned rocks afford a passage.
A hundred chosen Greeks pursued my steps;
We forced an entrance; the devoted guard
Fell victims to our rage; but, in that moment,
Down from the walls superior numbers came.
The tyrant led them on." We rushed upon him,
If we could reach his heart, to end the war.
But Heaven thought otherwise. Melanthon, say-
I fear to ask it-lives Evander still?

Melan. Alas! he lives, imprisoned in the rock. Thou must withdraw thee hence; regain once

more

Timoleon's camp; alarm his slumbering rage; Assail the walls; thou, with thy phalanx, seek The subterranneous path; that way at night The Greeks may enter, and let in destruction To the great work of vengeance.

Pho. Would'st thou have me Basely retreat, while my Euphrasia trembles Here on the ridge of peril? She, perhaps, May fall unknown, unpitied, undistinguished, Amidst the general carnage. Shall I leave her To add that beauty to the purple heap? No; I will seek her in these walls accurst, Even in the tyrant's palace; save that life, My only source of joy; that life, whose loss Would make all Greece complotter in a murder, And damn a righteous cause.

Melan. Yet hear the voice

Of sober age. Should Dionysius' spies
Detect thee here, ruin involves us all:
'Twere best retire, and seek Timoleon's tents;
Tell him, dismay and terror fill the city;
Even now in Syracuse the tyrant's will
Ordains with pomp oblations to the gods.
His deadly hand still hot with recent blood,
The monster dares approach the sacred altar:
Thy voice may rouse Timoleon to the assault,
And bid him storm the works.

Pho. By heaven I will;

My breath shall wake his rage; this very night, When sleep sits heavy on the slumbering city, Then Greece unsheathes her sword, and great

Pho. Wilt thou?

Melan. By Heaven I will; another act
Of desperate fury might endanger all.
The tyrant's busy guards are posted round;
In silence follow; thou shalt see Euphrasia.

Pho. Oh! lead me to her; that exalted virtue With firmer nerve shall bid me grasp the javelin, Shall bid my sword, with more than lightning's swiftness,

Blaze in the front of war, and glut its rage
With blows repeated in the tyrant's veins.

[Exeunt. SCENE II.—A Temple, with a Monument in the middle.

Enter EUPHRASIA, ERIXENE, and other Female Attendants.

Euph. This way, my virgins, this way bend

Some dread calamity hangs o'er our heads.
In vain the tyrant would appease with sacrifice
The impending wrath of ill-requited Heaven.
Ill omens hover o'er us: at the altar
The victim dropt, ere the divining seer
Had gored his knife. The brazen statues trem-
ble,

And from the marble drops of blood distil.
Erix. Now, ye just gods, if vengeance you
prepare,

Now find the guilty head!

Phil. Amidst the throng,

A matron labours with the inspiring god;
She stares, she raves, and, with no mortal sound,
Proclaims around Where, Phoebus, am I
borne ?

I see their glittering spears; I see them charge;
Bellona wades in blood; hat mangled body,

gore,

I know it well; Oh! close the dreadful scene' Relieve me, Phoebus! I have seen too much.' Erix. Alas! I tremble for Evander's fate. Avert the omen, gods, and guard his life!

Enter EUPHRASIA from the Tomb. Euph. Virgins, I thank you-Oh! more lightly now

My heart expands; the pious act is done,
And I have paid my tribute to a parent.
Ah! wherefore does the tyrant bend this way?
Phil. He flies the altar; leaves the unfinished

rites.

No God there smiles propitious on his cause. Fate lifts the awful balance; weighs his life, The lives of numbers, in the trembling scale.

Euph. Despair and horror mark his haggard looks,

His wild, disordered step-He rushes forth;
Some new alarm demands him! Even now
He issues at yon portal! Lo! see there,
The suppliant crowd disperses; wild with fear,
Distraction in each look, the wretched throng
Pours through the brazen gates-Do you retire,
Retire, Philotas; let me here remain,
And give the moments of suspended fate
To pious worship and to filial love.

Phil. Alas! I fear to yield: awhile I'll leave thee,

And at the temple's entrance wait thy coming. [Erit.

Euph. Now, then, Euphrasia, now thou may'st indulge

The purest ecstacy of soul. Come forth,
Thou man of woe, thou man of every virtue!

Enter EVANDER from the Monument. Evan. And does the grave thus cast me up again,

With a fond father's love to view thee? Thus
To mingle rapture in a daughter's arms?
Euph. How fares my father now?
Evan. Thy aid, Euphrasia,

Has given new life. Thou, from this vital stream
Deriv'st thy being; with unheard-of duty
Thou hast repaid it to thy native source.

Euph. Sprung from Evander, if a little portion Of all his goodness dwell within my heart, Thou wilt not wonder.

Evan. Joy and wonder rise

In mixed emotions! Though departing hence,
After the storms of a tempestuous life,
Though I was entering the wished-for port,
Where all is peace, all bliss, and endless joy,
Yet here contented I can linger still,

To view thy goodness, and applaud thy deeds,
Thou author of my life! Did ever parent
Thus call his child before? My heart's too full;
My old fond heart runs o'er; it aches with joy.
Euph. Alas, too much you over-rate your

daughter;
Nature and duty called me-

-Oh! my father,