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Chorus of Matrons and Virgins.

Ever may his mighty arm
Save the Spartan state from harm!
Ne'er may proud invader boast
Glory from our glory lost.
Light, O Jove, that sacred fire
Which did Sparta's sons inspire,
When the prince and people strove,
Burning with their country's love.
Xerxes, lord of great alarms,
Xerxes roused the world to arms.

Priests of Jupiter.

The earth was troubled at his host,
The springs were dried, the rivers lost;
But Spartan valour check'd his pride,
A slender band his host defied:
Thermopylae (immortal name !)
Beheld the Persian tyrant's shame.

Chorus of all.

There the brave Three Hundred died,

Faithful by their prince's side:

There they conquer'd, though they died. Priests O^hercules.

On earth below, in heaven above,
Revered, victorious, son of Jove!
Hear, Alcides, hear our prayer,
Thy godlike offspring claims thy care.

Chorus of all.

Bend thy bow, Tyrinthius, bend,

Lightly on the earth descend.

Fix an arrow on the string,

Stand beside the Spartan king,

Agis of thy race divine,

Tried in labours like to thine. Undaunted, like thee, with monsters he strives; The fiercest of Hydras in faction revives.

If he falls a sacrifice,

Never more shall Sparta rise! [Exeunt.

As the Procession goes off, enter Amphares.

Amph. Thus may my pious foes for ever strive, Be theirs the airy aid of fabled Jove. In nearer and more certain force I trust: Of human race, I fight with mortal arms. Yet, praised be Fortune, goddess of my vows,

'Tis she whose happy hand leads forth these dames;
Ne'er to the palace shall their steps return.
The net I've spread now covers all my foes,
Except Lysander: O had he been here!
Then I had stood, like mighty Atlas firm;
Fate but reserves him to another day.
The time is almost come; my Thracians now
Have reach'd their post; and many a daring eye
Looks for the signal. Here it is—my sword.
When I appear thus arm'd, the furies rise;
This is the comet, the fierce blazing star,
On which commotion, change, and death attend.

[Exit Amphaees.

ACT III.
SCENE,—A Court, $$. as before.

Enter Euanthe.

Athenian Pallas! O my native Gods!
Protect your suppliant in a foreign land!
Where shall I fly? O Agis! O Lysander!

Enter Lysander in a Helot's garb.

Helot, if pity, or if gold

Lysan. Euanthe!

Euan. O heaven and earth! Lysander!

Lysan. Yes, my love!
Thou see'st Lysander, miserable man!
Does Agis live?

Euan. Amidst the clash of arms,
And cries of fighting men, I heard them shout
The name of Agis. By and by a Spartan,
Flying and wounded, as he pass'd, call'd out,
"The king is safe; the king has gain'd the temple."

Lysan. Then all is safe ; for Sparta lives in him.

Euan. But the good queen!

Lysan. Her sex, her age protects her.

Euan. Heaven grant they may; an impious

band in arms

Pursued the holy train. Fear gave me speed, For I outstript them all. But now, Lysander, Betray'd, encompass'd, now what shall we do?

Lysan. Wert thou but safely placed, Lysander

knows

What he should do. I must not tarry here.
There is a temple in this spacious city,
For sanctity above all others famed,
To Juno sacred, the avenging Queen!
Thither a trusty slave of Agis' house
Will guide thy steps; by my command he waits
Without the palace.

Elian. Whither dost thou go?

Lysan. In this inglorious garb disguised, I wait Till night and darkness come; then I attempt The wall, where'er I find it slightly guarded. What mortal arm shall then oppose my way, Urged as I am! Alas, my loved Euanthe! From my compliance with thy fond request Springs the worst evil of this dreadful hour.

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