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my father?

sufferings, 'tis easing myself to relieve you: conversant with cash than you have been, I am know, therefore, all that 's past I freely forgive. now, with the greatest sincerity, your most obe

Gay. You cannot mean it, sure! I'am lost in dient friend, and humble servant. wonder!

Gay. Oh, Mrs. Pry, I have been too much inMel. Prepare yourself for more wonder. You dulged with forgiveness myself, not to forgive have another friend in masquerade here. Mr. lesser offences in other people

. Cook, pray throw aside your drunkenness, and Sharp: Well then, Madam, since my master make your sober appearance.-Don't you know has vouchsafed pardon to your handmaid Kitty, 1 that face, Sir ?

hope you'll not deny it to his footman Timothy. Cook. Ay, master; what ! you have forgot your Mel. Pardon! for what? friend, Dick, as you used to call me ?

Sharp. Only for telling you about ten thousand Gay. More wonder indeed! Don't you live with lies, Madam; and, among the rest, insinuating

that your ladyship would Mel

. Just after your hopeful servant there had Mel. I understand you; and can forgive any left me, comes this man from Sir William, with thing Sharp, that was designed for the service of a letter to me; upon which (being by that wholly your master; and if Pry and you will follow our convinced of your necessitous condition ). I in- example, I'll give her a small fortune, as a reward vented, by the help of Kitty and Mrs. Gadabout, for both your fidelities. this little plot, in which your friend Dick there Sharp. I fancy, Madam, 'twould be better to has acted miracles, resolving to tease you a little, halve the small fortune between us, and keep us that you might have a greater relish for a happy both single ; for as we shall live in the same house, turn in your affairs. Now, Sir, read that letter, in all probability we may taste the comforts of and complete your joy.

matrimony and not be troubled with its inconve

niences. What say you, Kitty ? Gay. [Reads.) Madum, I am father to the un

Kitty. Do you hear, Sharp; before you talk of fortunate young man, who, I hear, by a friend the comforts of matrimony, take the comforts of of mine (that by my desire has been a continual a good dinner, and recover your flesh a little ; do py upon him) is making his addresses to you. If

puppy. he is so happy as to make himself agreeable to

Sharp. The devil backs her, that's certain, you, whose character I am charmed with, I shall and I am no match for her at any weapon. orn him with joy for my son, and forget his

(Aside. former follies.- I am, madam, your most humble

Gay. Behold, Melissa, as sincere a convert as servant,


ever truth and beauty made. The wild, impetuP. S.--I will be soon in town myself to con

ous sallies of my youth are now blown over, and gratulate his reformation and marriage.

a most pleasing calm of perfect happiness suc

ceeds. Oh, Melissa, this is too much! Thus let me show my thanks and gratitude ; for here 'tis only Thus Ætna's flames the verdant earth consume, due.

(Kneels; she raises him. But milder heat makes drooping nature bloom; Sharp. A reprieve! a reprieve! a reprieve ! So virtuous love affords us springing joy,

Kitty. I have been, Sir, a most bitter enemy to Whilst vicious passions, as they burn, destroy. you; but since you are likely to be a little more


VOL. I. ...B






This tragedy was produced at Drury Lane in 1772. A picture of the Roman Charity, which Mr. Murphy no ticed at the house of a celebrated painter, wherein the centinel bursts into tears at “ The pious fraud of charity and love,” first suggested the idea to our author.

"Perhaps, of all the events recorded in history, that filial piety, on which the fable of this play is founded, may be classed amongst the most affecting-yet it was one of the most hazardous for a dramatist to adopt: for nothing less than complete skill could have given to this singular occurrence effectual force, joined to becoming delicacy In this arduous effort, Mr. Murphy has evinced the most exact judgment, and the nicest execution."


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Groans in captivity? In his own palace

Lives a sequester'd pris'ner? Oh! Philotas,

If thou hast not renounc'd humanity,

Let me behold my sovereign; once again

Admit me to his presence; let me see
Mel. Yet, a moment; hear, Philotas, hear me. My royal master.
Phil. No more ; it must not be.

Phil. Urge thy suit no further ;
Mel. Obdurate man!

Thy words are fruitless; Dionysius' orders
Thus wilt thou spurn me, when a king distress'd, Forbid access; he is our sov’reign now;
A good, a virtuous, venerable king,

'Tis his to give the law, mine to obey. The father of his people, from a throne,

Mel. Thou canst not mean it: his to give the Which long with every virtue he adorn'd,

law! Torn by a ruffian, by a tyrant's hand,

Detested spoiler !-his! a vile usurper !



}{ave we forgot the elder Dionysius,

To where the elder Dionysius form'd, Surnam'd the Tyrant? To Sicilia's throne On the sharp summit of the pointed rock, The monster waded through whole seas of blood. Which overhangs the deep, a dungeon drear ; Sore groaned the land beneath his iron rod, Cell within cell, a labyrinth of horror, Till rous'd at length, Evander came from Greece, Deep cavern'd in the cliff

, where many a wretch, Like freedom's genius came, and sent the tyrant, Unseen by mortal eye, has groan'd in anguish, Stripp'd of the crown, and to his humble rank And died obscure, unpitied and unknown. Once more reduc'd, to roam, for vile subsistence, Mel. Clandestine murderer! Yes, there's the A wand'ring sophist, through the realms of Greece.

Phil. Whate'er his right, to him in Syracuse Of horrid massacre. Full oft I've walk'd, All bend the knee; his the supreme dominion, When all things lay in sleep and darkness hush'd. And death and torment wait his sovereign nod. Yes, oft l've walk'd the lonely sullen beach, Mel. But soon that power shall cease; behold And heard the mournful sound of many a corse his walls

Plung'd from the rock into the wave beneath, Now close encircled by the Grecian bands; That murmurs on the shore. And means he thus Timoleon leads them on; indignant Corinth To end a monarch's life? Oh grant my prayer; Sends her avenger forth, array'd in terror, My timely succour may protect his days: To hurl ambition from a throne usurp'd,

The guard is yoursAnd bid all Sicily resume her rights.


. Forbear; thou plead'st in vain; Phil. Thou wert a statesman once, Melanthon; And though I feel soft pity throbbing here, now,

Though each emotion prompts the gen'rous deed, Grown dim with age, thy eye pervades no more I must not yield; it were assur'd destruction. The deep-laid schemes which Dionysius plans. Farewell, despatch a message to the Greeks; Know, then, a fleet from Carthage even now I'll to my station; now thou know'st the worst. Stems the rough billow; and, ere yonder sun,

(Erit. That, now declining, seeks the western wave, Mel. Oh, lost Evander! Lost Euphrasia too! Shall to the shades of night resign the world, How will her gentle nature bear the shock Thou'lt see the Punic sails in yonder bay, Of a dear father, thus in ling'ring pangs Whose waters wash the walls of Syracuse. A to famine, like the veriest wretch

Mel. Art thou a stranger to Timoleon's name? Whom the hard hand of misery hath grip'd ? Intent to plan, and circumspect to see

In vain she'll rage with impotence of sorrow;, All possible events, he rushes on

Perhaps provoke her fate: Greece arms in vain;
Resistless in his course! Your boasted master All's lost; Evander dies !
Scarce stands at bay; each hour the strong block-

Hems him in closer, and ere long thou'lt view Cal. Where is the king ?
Oppression's iron rod to fragments shiver’d! Our troops, that sallied to attack the foe,
The good Evander then-

Retire disordered: to the eastern gate
Phil. Alas, Evander

The Greeks pursue: Timoleon rides in blood, Will ne'er behold the golden time you look for! Arm, arm, and meet their fury.

Mel. How! not behold it! Say, Philotas, speak; Mel. To the citadel Has the fell tyrant, have his

felon murderers Direct thy footsteps : Dionysius there
Phil. As yet, my friend, Evander lives. Marshals a chosen band.
Mel. And yet

Cal. Do thou call forth
Thy dark, half-hinted purpose—lead me to him; Thy hardy vel'rans; haste, or all is lost !
If thou hast murdered him-

[Exit; warlike musie Phil. By heaven, he lives.

Mel. Now, ye just gods, now look propitious Mel. Then bless me with one tender interview,

down; Thrice has the sun gone down since last these eyes Now give the Grecian sabre tenfold edge, Have seen the good old king ; say, why is this? And save a virtuous king! (Wurlike music. Wherefore debarr'd his presence? Thee, Philotas, The troops obey, that guard the royal pris'ner;

Each avenue to thee is open; thou

Euph. War on, ye heroes,
Canst grant admittance; let me, let me, see him. Ye great assertors of a monarch's cause !

Phil. Entreat no more; the soul of Dionysius Let the wild tempest rage. Melanthon, ha! Is ever wakeful; rent with all the pangs

Didst thou not hear the vast tremendous roar ? That wait on conscious guilt.

Down tumbling from its base the eastern tower Mel. But when dun night

Burst on the tyrant's ranks, and on the plain Phil. Alas it cannot be: but mark my words. Lies an extended ruin. Let Greece urge on her general assault.

Mel. Still new horrors Despatch some friend, who may o'erleap the walls, Increase each hour, and gather round our heads. And tell Timoleon, the good old Evander

Euph. The glorious tumult lifts my tow'ring Has liv'd three days, by Dionysius' order,

soul. Lock'd up from every sustenance of nature, Once more, Melanthon, once again, my father And life now wearied out, almost expires. Shall mount Sicilia's throne.

Mel. If any spark of virtue dwells within thee, Mel. Alas! that hour Lead me, Philotas, lead me to his prison. Would come with joy to every honest heart; Phil. The tyrant's jealous care hath mov'd him But no such hour in all the round of time, thence.

I fear the fates, averse, will e'er lead on. Mel. Ha! mov'd him, say'st thou ?

Euph. And still Melanthon, still does pale de Phil. At the midnight hour,

spair Silent convey'd him up the steep ascent, Depress thy spirit ? Lo! Timoleon comes



Arm'd with the power of Greece; the brave, the Euph. O Dionysius, if distracting fears just,

Alarm this throbbing bosom, you will pardon God-like Timoleon! ardent to redress,

A frail and tender sex. Till the fury He guides the war, and gains upon his prey. Of war subside, the wild, the horrid interval A little interval shall set the victor

În safety let me soothe to dear delight Within our gates triumphant.

In a lov'd father's presence : from his sight, Mel. Still my fears

For three long days, with specious feign'd excuse Forebode for thee. Would thou hadst left this Your guards debarr'd me. Oh! while yet he

place, When hence your husband, the brave Phocion, Indulge a daughter's love; worn out with age, fled;

Soon must he seal his eyes in endless night, Fled with your infant son !

And with his converse charm my ears no more Euph. In duty fix’d,

Dion. Afflicted fair,
Here I remain'd, while my brave, gen'rous Phocion Thy couch invites thee. When the tumult's o'er,
Fled with my child, and from his mother's arms Thou'lt see Evander with redoubled joy.
Bore my sweet little one. Full well thou know'st Though now unequal to the cares of empire
The pangs I suffer'd in that trying moment. His age sequester him, yet honours high
Did I not weep? Did I not rave and shriek, Shall gild the evening of his various day.-
And by the roots tear my dishevell'd hair ? Perdiccas, ere the morn’s revolving light
Did I not follow to the sea-beat shore,

Unveil the face of things, do thou despatch
Resolved, with him and with my blooming boy, A well-oar'd galley to Hamilcar's fleet;
To trust the winds and waves ?

At the north point of yonder promontory
Mel. The pious act, whate'er the fates intend, Let some select officer instruct him
Shall merit heart-felt praise.

To moor his ships, and issue on the land.
Euph. Yes, Phocion, go,

Then may Timoleon tremble : vengeance then Go with my child, torn from this matron breast, Shall overwhelm his camp, pursue his bands This breast that still should yield its nurture to With fatal havoc to the ocean's margin,

And cast their limbs to glut the vulture's famine, Fly with my infant to some happier shore. In mangled heaps upon the naked shore. (Erit If he be sate, Euphrasia dies content.

Euph. What do I hear ? Melanthon, can it be? Till that sad close of all, the task be mine If Carthage comes, if her perfidious sons To tend a father with delighted care,

List in his cause, the dawn of freedom's gone. To smooth the pillow of declining age,

Mel. Woe, bitt'rest woe, impends; thou See him sink gradual into mere decay,

would'st not thinkOn the last verge of life watch every look, Euph. How ?—Speak ! unfold ! Explore each fond unutterable wish,


. My tongue denies its office. Catch his last breath, and close his eyes in peace. Euph. How is my father ? Say, Melanthon

Mel. I would not add to thy afflictions; yet Mel. He,
My heart misgives ; Evander's fatal period I fear to shock thee with the tale of horror!

Euph. Still is far off: the gods have sent relief, Perhaps he dies this moment. ---Since Timoleon
And once again I shall behold him king. First form’d his lines round this beleaguer'd city,
Mel. Alas! those glitt'ring hopes but lend a No nutriment has touch'd Evander's lips.

In the deep caverns of the rock imprison'd,
To gild the clouds, that hover o'er your head, He pines in bitterest want.
Soon to rain sorrow down, and plange you deeper Euph. Well, my heart,
In black despair.

Well do your vital drops forget to flow!
Euph. The spirit stirring virtue,

Mel. Despair, alas! is all the sad resource That glows within me, ne'er shall know despair. | Our fate allows us now. No, I will trust the gods. Desponding man! Euph. Yet why despair ? Hast thou not heard with what resistless ardour Is that the tribute to a father due ? Timoleon drives the tumult of the war?

Blood is his due. Hast thou not heard him thund'ring at our gates? Melanthon, come ; my wrongs will lend me force; The tyrant 's pent up in his last retreat; The weakness of my sex is gone; this arm Anon thou'lt see his battlements in dust, Feels tenfold strength; this arm shall do a deed His walls, his ramparts, and his towers, in ruin; For heaven and earth, for men and gods to wonDestruction pouring in on ev'ry side,

der at ! Pride and oppression at their utmost need, This arm shall vindicate a father's cause. And nought to save him in his hopeless hour.

(Ereunt. (Flourish of Trumpets. Mel. Ha! the fell tyrant comes-Beguile his

ACT II. rage,

SCENE I.-Awild romantic scene amidst overAnd o'er your sorrows cast a dawn of gladness.

hanging Rocks; a Cadern on one side. Enter DIONYSIUS, CALIPPUS, OFFICERS, &-c.

Enter ARCAs, with a Spear in his hand. Dion. The vain presumptuous Greek! his hopes of conquest,

Atc. The gloom of night sits heavy on the Like a gay dream, are vanish'd into air. Proudly elate, and flush'd with easy triumph And o'er the solemn scene such stillness reigns, O'er vulgar warriors, to the gates of Syracuse As 'twere a pause of nature; on the beach He urg'd the war, till Dionysius' arm

No murm'ring billow breaks; the Grecian tents Let slaughter loose, and taught his dastard train Lie sunk in sleep; no gleaming fires are seen ; To seek their safety by inglorious flight. All Syracuse is hush'd: no stir abroad,




Save ever and anon the dashing oar,

Phil. How didst thou gain the summit of the That beats the sullen wave. And hark !-Was

rock ?

Ėuph. Give me my father; here you hold him The groan of anguish from Evander's cell, Piercing the midnight gloom ?- It is the sound Oh! give him to me ;-if ever Of bustling prows,

that cleave the briny deep. The touch of nature throbb’d within your breast, Perhaps at this dead hour Hamilcar's fleet Admit me to Evander; in these caves Rides in the bay.

I know he pines in want; let me convey
Enter PhilOTAS, from the Cadern.

Some charitable succour to a father.
Phil. What, ho! brave Arcas! ho!

Phil. Alas! Euphrasia, would I dare comply. Are. Why thus desert thy corch?

Euph. It will be virtue in thee. Thou, like me,

Wert born in Greece :-Oh! by our common paPhil. Methought the sound

rentOf distant uproar chas'd affrighted sleep. Arc. At intervals the oar's resounding stroke

Nay, stay; thou shalt not fly; Philotas, stay; Comes echoing from the main. Save that report, Hard as Evander's; if by felon hands

You have a father too; think, were his lot A death-like silence through the wide expanse Chain'd to the earth, with slow consuming panga Broods o'er the dreary coast. Phil. Do thou retire,

He felt sharp want, and with an asking eye And seek repose; the duty of thy watch

Implor'd relief, yet cruel men deny'd it, Is now perform'd; I take thy post.

Would'st thou not burst through adamantine gates, Arc, How fares

Through walls and rocks, to save him? Think,

Your royal pris'ner ?
Phil.' Arcas, shall I own

Of thy own aged sire, and pity mine.

Think of the agonies a daughter feels, A secret weakness? My heart inward melts

When thus a parent wants the common food, To see that suffering virtue. On the earth,

The bounteous hand of nature meant for all. The cold, damp earth, the royal victim lies;

Phil. "Twere best withdraw thee, princess; And, while pale famine drinks his vital spirit, He welcomes death, and smiles himself to rest.

thy assistance
Oh! would I could relieve him! Thou withdraw; Thy tears, thy wild entreaties, are in vain.

Evander wants not; it is fruitless all;
Thy wearied nature claims repose; and now
The watch is mine.

Euph. Ha!-thou hast murder'd him; he 19

no more ; Arc. May no alarm disturb thee. [Erit. Phil. Some dread event is lab'ring into birth.

I understand thee;- butchers, you have shed At close of day the sullen sky held forth

The precious drops of life; yet, e'en in death, Unerring signals. With disastrous glare

Let me behold him; let a daughter close The moon's full orb rose crimson’d o'er with blood; Print her last kisses on his honourd hand,

With duteous hand a father's beamless eyes ; And, lo! athwart the gloom a falling star Trails a long tract of fire !-What daring step

And lay him decent in the shroud of death Sounds on the flinty rock? Stand there ; what, Retire, and seek the couch of balmy sleep,

Phil. Alas! this frantic grief can nought avail. ho!

In this dead hour, this season of repose. Speak, ere thou dar'st advance. Unfold thy pur

Euph. And dost thou then, inhuman that thou pose : Who and what art thou ?


Advise a wretch like me to know repose ? Euph. (Behind the scenes.] Thou need’st not This is my last abode : these caves, these rocks,

fear, It is a friend approaches.

Shall ring for ever with Euphrasia's wrongs; Phil. Ha! what mean

All Sicily shall hear me, yonder de

Shall echo back an injur'd daughter's cause; Those plaintive notes ?

Here will I dwell, and rave, and shriek, and give Euph. Here is no ambush'd Greek,

These scatter'd locks to all the passing winds ; No warrior to surprise thee on the watch. An humble supplíant comes.-Alas

, my strength And cruel gods, and cruel stars invoking,

Call on Evander lost ; and, pouring curses,
Exhausted quite forsakes this weary frame.
Phil. What voice thus piercing through the Stand on the cliff in madness and despair.

Phil. Yet calm this violence; reflect, Euphrasia, gleam of night, What art thou ? what thy errand ? quickly say

With what severe enforcement Dionysius What wretch, with what intent, at this dread Exacts obedience to his dread command.

If here thou’rt foundhourWherefore alarm'st thou thus our peaceful watch? Her fix'd eternal home ;-inhuman savages,

Euph. Here is Euphrasia's mansion. (Fall [Erit.

Here stretch me with a father's murder'd corse. Re-enter PHILOTAS, with EUPHRASIA. Phil. By heaven, Euphrasia

My heart in pity bleeds. Why, princess, thus anticipate the dawn? Her vehemence of grief o'erpowers me quite. Still sleep and silence wrap the weary world, My honest heart condemns the barb'rous deed, The stars in mid career usarp the pole;

And if I dare The Grecian bands, the winds, the waves, are Euph. And if you dare !-Is that hush'd;

The voice of manhood ? Honest, if you darr All things are mute around us; all but you 'Tis the slave's virtue! 'tis the utmost limit Rest in oblivious slumber from their cares. Of the base coward's honour.-Not a wretch, Euph. Yes, all; all rest : the very murd'rer There's not a villain, not a tool of power, sleeps;.

But, silence interest, extinguish fear, Guilt is at rest: I only wake to misery.

And he will prove benevolent to man

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