Selected from the rest, let one depart
A messenger to Greece, to tell the fate
Her chosen sons, her first adventurers, met.

[Exit DIONYSIUS.

Mel. Unhappy men! how shall my care protect Your forfeit lives? Philotas, thou conduct them To the deep dungeon's gloon. 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. Phoc. Satisfy my doubts; how fares Euphrasia' Mel. Euphrasia lives, and fills the anxious mo

ments

With every virtue. Wherefore venture thither?
Why with rash valour penetrate our gates?

Phoc. Could I refrain? Oh! could I tamely wait
Th' event of ling'ring 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 danger sinks before me;
For her I burst the barriers of the gate,
Where the deep cavern'd rock affords a passage:
A hundred chosen Greeks pursu'd my steps.
We forc'd 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 rush'd upon him,
If we could reach his heart, to end the war.
But Heav'n thought otherwise. Melanthon, say,—
I fear to ask it, lives Evander still?

Mel. Alas, he lives imprison'd in the rock. Thou must withdraw thee hence; regain once more Timoleon's alarm his slumb'ring rage; camp; Assail the walls; thou with thy phalanx seek The subterraneous path; that way at night The Greeks may enter, and let in destruction On the astonish'd foe.

Phoc. By Heav'n I will!

My breath shall wake his rage: this very night
When sleep sits heavy on the slumb'ring city,
Then Greece unsheaths her sword, and great revenge
Shall stalk with death and horror o'er the ranks
Of slaughter'd troops, a sacrifice to freedom!
But first let me behold Euphrasia.

Mel. Hush

Thy pent-up valour: to a secret haunt

I'll guide thy steps; there dwell, and in apt time
I'll bring Euphrasia to thy longing arms.

Phoc. 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 swift

ness

Blaze in the front of war, and glut its rage

With blow repeated in the tyrant's veins. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

A Temple, with a Monument in the Middle.

Enter EUPHRASIA, ERIXENE, and other Female
Attendants.

Eup. This way, my virgins, this way bend your steps.

Lo! the sad sepulchre, where, hears'd in death,
The pale remains of my dear mother lie.
There, while the victims at yon altar bleed,
And with your pray'rs the vaulted roof resounds,
There let me pay the tribute of a tear,

A weeping pilgrim o'er Eudocia's ashes.

Erix. Forbear, Euphrasia, to renew your sorrows. Eup. My tears have dried their source; then let me

here

Pay this sad visit to the honour'd clay

That moulders in the tomb.

These sacred viands

I'll burn, an offering to a parent's shade,
And sprinkle with this wine the hallow'd mould.
That duty paid, I will return, my virgins.

[She goes into the Tomb. Erix. Look down, propitious powrs! behold that virtue,

And heal the pangs that desolate her soul.

Enter PHILOTAS.

Phil. Mourn, mourn, ye virgins; rend your scat-
ter'd garments;

Some dread calamity hangs o'er our heads.
In vain the tyrant would appease with sacrifice
Th' impending wrath of ill-requited Heav'n.
Ill omens hover o'er us: at the altar

The victim dropp'd, ere the divining seer

Had gor'd his knife. The brazen statues tremble, And from the marble drops of blood distil.

Erir. Now, ye just gods, if vengeance you prepare, Now find the guilty head.

Enter EUPHRASIA from the Tomb.

Eup. 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. [Exeunt Virgins. Ah! whither does the tyrant bend his way?

Phil. He flies the altar; leaves th' unfinish'd 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.

Eup. Despair and horror mark his haggard looks. 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 my coming.

[Exit.

Eup. Now, then, Euphrasia, now thou mayst indulge

The purest ecstasy of soul. Come forth,

Thou man of woe, thou man of every virtue.

Enter EVANDER, from the Monument.

Eva. 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? Eup. How fares my father now?

Eva. Thy aid, Euphrasia,

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

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

Eva. Joy and wonder rise

In mix'd emotions!-Though departing hence,
After the storms of a tempestuous life,
Tho' I was entering the wish'd-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.

Eup. Alas! too much you over-rate your daughter; Nature and duty call'd me- -Oh! my father,

How did'st thou bear thy long, long suff'rings? How Endure their barb'rous rage?

Eva. My foes but did

To this old frame what Nature's hand must do. In the worst hour of pain, a voice still whisper'd me, "Rouse thee, Evander; self-acquitting conscience

"Declares thee blameless, and the gods behold thee."

I was but going hence by mere decay,
To that futurity which Plato taught.
Thither, oh! thither was Evander going,
But thou recall'st me; thou!

Eup. Timoleon too

Invites thee back to life.

Eva. And does he still

Urge on the siege?

Eup. His active genius comes

To scourge a guilty race.

The Punic fleet,

Half lost, is swallow'd by the roaring sea.

The shatter'd refuse seek the Lybian shore,

To bear the news of their defeat to Carthage.

Eva. These are thy wonders, Heav'n! Abroad thy spirit

Moves o'er the deep, and mighty fleets are vanish'd. Eup. Ha!-Hark !—what noise is that?

Some busy footstep beats the hallow'd pavement. Oh! sir, retire-Ye pow'rs!-Philotas !—ha!

Enter PHILOTAS.

Phil. For thee, Euphrasia, Dionysius calls! Some new suspicion goads him. At yon gate I stopp'd Calippus, as with eager haste

He bent his way to seek thee.-Oh! my sovereign, My king, my injur'd master, will you pardon

The wrongs I've done thee? [Kneels to EVANder.
Eva. Virtue such as thine,

From the fierce trial of tyrannic pow'r
Shines forth with added lustre.

Phil. Oh! forgive

My ardent zeal; there is no time to waste.

You must withdraw: trust to your faithful friends. Pass but another day, and Dionysius

Falls from a throne usurp'd.

Eva. But ere he pays

The forfeit of his crimes, what streams of blood