I have betray'd the confidence of Agis:
But I'll repair my fault.

Euan. What dost thou mean?

Lysan. Agis commanded me to leave the city, And thinks, would to the Gods he thought aright! That his Lysander heads the Spartan troops, In whom his only hope of safety lies. But I, Euanthe! partial to thy will,

Sought thee in vain. In that unhappy time
They seized the gates, and shut me up in Sparta.
Fate punishes with too severe a doom

The human weakness of indulgent love.
Agis! I come!-For the deep voices now
Of duty, friendship, gratitude, and glory,

Sound through my breast, and from my beating

heart

Their echo rings. Farewell! my love, farewell!

Euan. Not yet, Lysander! Agis is opprest, And Sparta too.. Does duty, or does honour Require Lysander, like an eastern slave, To fall attendant on the royal pile?

What can you do? The army will betray you: So with the few, the faithful few that love you, You'll do some desperate action, and be slain.

If you despise your life, yet think of me,

Let me not think of that. Retire, Euanthe,
And in the hallow'd temple rest secure.
This night I'll force ill-guided Sparta's gates,
And save my prince, my country, and Euanthe.
Euan. Thy prince, thy country, are already lost.
O listen, and preserve thyself and me:
The ship that bore me to the Spartan shore
Rides still at anchor: leave this wretched land.
Where'er thou go'st I will attend thy steps;
Thy gods shall be my gods; thy people, mine.
Lysan. Alas! Euanthe does not see the shame,
The ruin of that counsel love inspires.

The eternal Gods repose this hour in me
No common trust: Upon my deeds depend
The fate of Agis, and the fate of Sparta.

My soldiers too, my brave, my faithful soldiers,
The meanest warrior of the royal band
Freely devotes his life to godlike Agis.

And shall their leader, shall the friend of Agis,
Forsake his prince? I will forget thy words;
Repeat them not.

Euan. Is this Lysander's love?

Must I not speak? Is my reward reproach?

For I left
you
my friends and native land,
Defy'd all danger, and all censure scorn'd;

Now in my sore distress I call on thee
For whom I suffer, to protect my honour,
And in my sore distress dost thou upbraid me?
If ever maid, like credulous Euanthe,

Bursts all the bonds of nature for one man,
Let her beware that he be not a Spartan !

O wretched maid! O Athens lost in vain!

[Ready to faint. Lysan. All-ruling powers! why am I thus dis

trest?

Why come calamities so thick upon me?

Euanthe, hear me; you shall be obey'd.

I'll bear thee hence, and go with thee to Athens, Restore thee to thy country and thy friends,

Of whom thou dost complain I have bereft thee. Lysander will acquit himself to thee,

And to mankind

Euan. Delude me not. Alas!

Thy tongue speaks comfort; but thy voice, thy looks,

Wild and unsettled, drive me to despair:

For thou, methinks, art desperate, Lysander. Those lips that quiver, and those eyes that roll Like dragon's eyes, those are not signs of love! Thou say'st that thou wilt bear me back to Athens; Will that acquit thee, if thou leavest me there? Is that thy purpose?

Lysan. Yes. I'll leave the world,

And death shall wipe dishonour from my name;
Agis and Sparta shall forgive me then,
And every debt be paid.

Euan. Lysander, no.

Love's victims are not of your sterner sex.
It is the destiny of womankind
Constant to live, and desolate to die.
To strong necessity Euanthe yields.

If I should tear you from the side of Agis,

I see my fate; you ne'er would love me more:

Though you should live, yet you would die to me.
But I win rather stay and perish here,

Than live without thee. Go, and fight for Agis;
But in the hour of danger think of me!
Calm in the rear direct the course of battle,
The dreadful van let other warriors lead,
In whom nor Agis nor Euanthe lives.

Lysan. These words become my idolized Euanthe! And honour now approves the voice of love. O, thou first object of my young desires, And through each period of my ripening years Still more maturely and intensely loved, Hear and believe my words-Beware-Beware!

Enter AMPHARES.

[To his People.] 'Tis she, by Venus! halt.-Fear

not, my fair,

Nor meditate

escape from

Euan. My Amphares!

your Amphares.

Amph. Thine, and thine alone !—

Thou low'ring slave, begone! Haste! urge me not

To stain my sword with thy ignoble blood.

[Exit LYSANDER.

Euan. Is this thy love? Imperious, and in arms, Recent from blood and treason, dost thou come To take by force and violence my heart?

Amph. The love of thee, more powerful than ambition,

Inflamed me to attempt the Spartan throne.
Thy beauty is the torch that lights the war :
For thee I conquer-Smile not thus in scorn:
Deign to accept my hand and Sparta's crown.