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 Enter PHILOTAS. Phil. Oh! vile, detested lot, And murder virtue, that can thus behold Arc. She must withdraw, Philotas ; Of yonder jutting eminence, I marked Their haughty streamers curling to the wind. Without or further pause, or vain excuse, 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 Arc. Ha! Say what mystery Phil. Wonder-working virtue ! Arc. That device Has she then formed, eluding all our care, Phil. On the bare earth Evander lies; and as his languid powers Arc. The tale unmans my soul, And learn, that while your cruelty prepares Arc. Philotas, for Euphrasia, in her cause, 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, [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! There may'st thou dwell; it will not long be wanted. Euph. My father still shall live. Alas! Phi- Soon shall Timoleon, with resistless force, lotas, Evan. Whither, oh! whither shall Evander go! I am at the goal of life; if in the race Euph. And will you then refuse, when thus 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! ACT III. 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? 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 [Exit. Melan. If he deceive me not with specious hopes, I shall behold the sovereign, in whose service Euph. See there; behold them; lo! the fierce encounter! He rushes on; the ocean flames around [Exit. Dion. The solemn sacrifice, the virgin throng, With the bright flash of arms; the echoing hills In the fierce soldiery religious rage. 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, Cal. My liege, Timoleon, where the harbour 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. 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. A heart that's torn, that's mangled with remorse. Dion. Detested thought! No, though ambition teem with countless ills, 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 All leagued, all covenanted: in yon camp 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 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 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 I'll guide thy steps: there dwell, and in apt time | Deformed with wounds and weltering in its I'll bring Euphrasia to thy longing arms. Pho. Wilt thou? Melan. By Heaven I will; another act 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 [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. And from the marble drops of blood distil. Now find the guilty head! Phil. Amidst the throng, A matron labours with the inspiring god; I see their glittering spears; I see them charge; 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, 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; 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, 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 Has given new life. Thou, from this vital stream 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, To view thy goodness, and applaud thy deeds, daughter; -Oh! my father, |