A Rampart near the Harbour.EnterDionysius.Dio.Base deserters!Curse on their Punic faith! did they once dareTo grapple with the Greek? Ere yet the mainWas ting'd with blood, they turn'd their ships averse.May storms and tempests follow in their rear,And dash their fleet upon the Lybian shore!EnterCalippus.Cal.My liege, Timoleon, where the harbour opens,Has storm'd the forts, and even now his fleetPursues its course, and steers athwart the bay.Dio.Ruin impends; and yet, if fall it must,I bear a mind to meet it undismay'd,Unconquer'd ev'n by Fate.Cal.Through ev'ry streetDespair and terror fly. A panic spreadsFrom man to man, and superstition seesJove arm'd with thunder, and the gods against us.Dio.With sacred rites their wrath must be appeas'd.Let instant victims at the altar bleed:Let incense roll its fragrant clouds to Heav'n,And pious matrons, and the virgin train,In slow procession to the temple bearThe image of their gods.The solemn sacrifice, the virgin throng,Will gain the popular belief, and kindleIn the fierce soldiery religious rage.Away, my friends, prepare the sacred rites.[ExeuntCalippus, &c.Philotas, thou draw near: how fares your pris'ner?Has he yet breath'd his last?Phil.Life ebbs apace;To-morrow's sun sees him a breathless corse.Dio.Curse on his ling'ring pangs! Sicilia's crownNo more shall deck his brow; and if the sandStill loiter in the glass, thy hand, my friend,May shake it thence.Phil.It shall, dread sir; that taskLeave to thy faithful servant.Dio.Oh! Philotas,Thou little know'st the cares, the pangs of empire.The ermin'd pride, the purple that adornsA conqueror's breast, but serves, my friend, to hideA heart that's torn, that's mangled with remorse.Each object round me wakens horrid doubts;The flatt'ring train, the sentinel that guards me,The slave that waits, all give some new alarm,And from the means of safety dangers rise.Ev'n victory itself plants anguish here,And round my laurels the fell serpent twines.Phil.Would Dionysius abdicate his crown,And sue for terms of peace?Dio.Detested thought!No, though ambition teem with countless ills,It still has charms of pow'r to fire the soul.Though horrors multiply around my head,I will oppose them all. The pomp of sacrifice,But now ordain'd, is mockery to Heav'n.'Tis vain, 'tis fruitless; then let daring guiltBe my inspirer, and consummate all.Where are those Greeks, the captives of my sword,Whose desperate valour rush'd within our walls,Fought near our person, and the pointed lanceAim'd at my breast?Phil.In chains they wait their doom.Dio.Give me to see 'em; bring the slaves before me.Phil.What, ho! Melanthon, this way lead your prisoners.EnterMelanthon, withGreek OfficersandSoldiers.Dio.Assassins, and not warriors! do ye come,When the wide range of battle claims your sword,Thus do ye come against a single lifeTo wage the war? Did not our buckler ringWith all your darts, in one collected volley,Shower'd on my head? Did not your swords at oncePoint at my breast, and thirst for regal blood?G. Off.We sought thy life. I am by birth a Greek.An open foe in arms, I meant to slayThe foe of human kind. With rival ardourWe took the field; one voice, one mind, one heart;All leagu'd, all covenanted: in yon campSpirits there are who aim, like us, at glory.Whene'er you sally forth, whene'er the GreeksShall scale your walls, prepare thee to encounterA like assault. By me the youth of GreeceThus notify the war they mean to wage.Dio.Thus, then, I warn them of my great revenge.Whoe'er in battle shall become our pris'ner,In torment meets his doom.G. Off.Then wilt thou seeHow vile the body to a mind that pantsFor genuine glory. Twice three hundred GreeksHave sworn like us, to hunt thee through the ranks;Ours the first lot; we've fail'd; on yonder plainAppear in arms, the faithful band will meet thee.Dio.Vile slave, no more. Melanthon, drag 'em henceTo die in misery. Impal'd alive,The winds shall parch them on the craggy cliff.Selected from the rest, let one departA messenger to Greece, to tell the fateHer chosen sons, her first adventurers met.[ExitDionysius.Mel.Unhappy men! how shall my care protectYour forfeit lives? Philotas, thou conduct themTo the deep dungeon's gloom. In that recess,'Midst the wild tumult of eventful warWe may ward off the blow. My friends, farewell:That officer will guide your steps.[All followPhilotas, exceptPhocion.Phoc.Satisfy my doubts; how fares Euphrasia?Mel.Euphrasia lives, and fills the anxious momentsWith every virtue. Wherefore venture hither?Why with rash valour penetrate our gates?Phoc.Could I refrain? Oh! could I tamely waitTh' event of ling'ring war? With patience countThe lazy-pacing hours, while here in SyracuseThe 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 guardFell victims to our rage; but in that momentDown 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 imprisoned in the rock.Thou must withdraw thee hence; regain once moreTimoleon's camp! alarm his slumb'ring rage;Assail the walls; thou with thy phalanx seekThe subterraneous path; that way at nightThe Greeks may enter, and let in destructionOn the astonish'd foe.Phoc.By Heav'n I will;My breath shall wake his rage; this very nightWhen sleep sits heavy on the slumb'ring city,Then Greece unsheaths her sword, and great revengeShall stalk with death and horror o'er the ranksOf slaughter'd troops a sacrifice to freedom!But first let me behold Euphrasia.Mel.HushThy pent-up valour: to a secret hauntI'll guide thy steps; there dwell, and in apt timeI'll bring Euphrasia to thy longing arms.Phoc.Oh! lead me to her; that exalted virtueWith 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 rageWith blow repeated in the tyrant's veins.[Exeunt.
A Rampart near the Harbour.
EnterDionysius.
Dio.Base deserters!Curse on their Punic faith! did they once dareTo grapple with the Greek? Ere yet the mainWas ting'd with blood, they turn'd their ships averse.May storms and tempests follow in their rear,And dash their fleet upon the Lybian shore!
EnterCalippus.
Cal.My liege, Timoleon, where the harbour opens,Has storm'd the forts, and even now his fleetPursues its course, and steers athwart the bay.
Dio.Ruin impends; and yet, if fall it must,I bear a mind to meet it undismay'd,Unconquer'd ev'n by Fate.
Cal.Through ev'ry streetDespair and terror fly. A panic spreadsFrom man to man, and superstition seesJove arm'd with thunder, and the gods against us.
Dio.With sacred rites their wrath must be appeas'd.Let instant victims at the altar bleed:Let incense roll its fragrant clouds to Heav'n,And pious matrons, and the virgin train,In slow procession to the temple bearThe image of their gods.The solemn sacrifice, the virgin throng,Will gain the popular belief, and kindleIn the fierce soldiery religious rage.Away, my friends, prepare the sacred rites.[ExeuntCalippus, &c.
Philotas, thou draw near: how fares your pris'ner?Has he yet breath'd his last?
Phil.Life ebbs apace;To-morrow's sun sees him a breathless corse.
Dio.Curse on his ling'ring pangs! Sicilia's crownNo more shall deck his brow; and if the sandStill loiter in the glass, thy hand, my friend,May shake it thence.
Phil.It shall, dread sir; that taskLeave to thy faithful servant.
Dio.Oh! Philotas,Thou little know'st the cares, the pangs of empire.The ermin'd pride, the purple that adornsA conqueror's breast, but serves, my friend, to hideA heart that's torn, that's mangled with remorse.Each object round me wakens horrid doubts;The flatt'ring train, the sentinel that guards me,The slave that waits, all give some new alarm,And from the means of safety dangers rise.Ev'n victory itself plants anguish here,And round my laurels the fell serpent twines.
Phil.Would Dionysius abdicate his crown,And sue for terms of peace?
Dio.Detested thought!No, though ambition teem with countless ills,It still has charms of pow'r to fire the soul.Though horrors multiply around my head,I will oppose them all. The pomp of sacrifice,But now ordain'd, is mockery to Heav'n.'Tis vain, 'tis fruitless; then let daring guiltBe my inspirer, and consummate all.Where are those Greeks, the captives of my sword,Whose desperate valour rush'd within our walls,Fought near our person, and the pointed lanceAim'd at my breast?
Phil.In chains they wait their doom.
Dio.Give me to see 'em; bring the slaves before me.
Phil.What, ho! Melanthon, this way lead your prisoners.
EnterMelanthon, withGreek OfficersandSoldiers.
Dio.Assassins, and not warriors! do ye come,When the wide range of battle claims your sword,Thus do ye come against a single lifeTo wage the war? Did not our buckler ringWith all your darts, in one collected volley,Shower'd on my head? Did not your swords at oncePoint at my breast, and thirst for regal blood?
G. Off.We sought thy life. I am by birth a Greek.An open foe in arms, I meant to slayThe foe of human kind. With rival ardourWe took the field; one voice, one mind, one heart;All leagu'd, all covenanted: in yon campSpirits there are who aim, like us, at glory.Whene'er you sally forth, whene'er the GreeksShall scale your walls, prepare thee to encounterA like assault. By me the youth of GreeceThus notify the war they mean to wage.
Dio.Thus, then, I warn them of my great revenge.Whoe'er in battle shall become our pris'ner,In torment meets his doom.
G. Off.Then wilt thou seeHow vile the body to a mind that pantsFor genuine glory. Twice three hundred GreeksHave sworn like us, to hunt thee through the ranks;Ours the first lot; we've fail'd; on yonder plainAppear in arms, the faithful band will meet thee.
Dio.Vile slave, no more. Melanthon, drag 'em henceTo die in misery. Impal'd alive,The winds shall parch them on the craggy cliff.Selected from the rest, let one departA messenger to Greece, to tell the fateHer chosen sons, her first adventurers met.[ExitDionysius.
Mel.Unhappy men! how shall my care protectYour forfeit lives? Philotas, thou conduct themTo the deep dungeon's gloom. In that recess,'Midst the wild tumult of eventful warWe may ward off the blow. My friends, farewell:That officer will guide your steps.[All followPhilotas, exceptPhocion.
Phoc.Satisfy my doubts; how fares Euphrasia?
Mel.Euphrasia lives, and fills the anxious momentsWith every virtue. Wherefore venture hither?Why with rash valour penetrate our gates?
Phoc.Could I refrain? Oh! could I tamely waitTh' event of ling'ring war? With patience countThe lazy-pacing hours, while here in SyracuseThe 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 guardFell victims to our rage; but in that momentDown 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 imprisoned in the rock.Thou must withdraw thee hence; regain once moreTimoleon's camp! alarm his slumb'ring rage;Assail the walls; thou with thy phalanx seekThe subterraneous path; that way at nightThe Greeks may enter, and let in destructionOn the astonish'd foe.
Phoc.By Heav'n I will;My breath shall wake his rage; this very nightWhen sleep sits heavy on the slumb'ring city,Then Greece unsheaths her sword, and great revengeShall stalk with death and horror o'er the ranksOf slaughter'd troops a sacrifice to freedom!But first let me behold Euphrasia.
Mel.HushThy pent-up valour: to a secret hauntI'll guide thy steps; there dwell, and in apt timeI'll bring Euphrasia to thy longing arms.
Phoc.Oh! lead me to her; that exalted virtueWith 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 rageWith blow repeated in the tyrant's veins.[Exeunt.
A Temple, with a Monument in the Middle.EnterEuphrasia,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 dry'd their source; then let me here,Pay this sad visit to the honour'd clay,That moulders in the tomb. These sacred viandsI'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 pow'rs! behold that virtue,And heal the pangs that desolate her soul.EnterPhilotas.Phil.Mourn, mourn, ye virgins; rend your scatter'd garments:Some dread calamity hangs o'er our heads.In vain the tyrant would appease with sacrificeTh' impending wrath of ill-requited Heav'n.Ill omens hover o'er us: at the altarThe victim dropp'd, ere the divining seerHad gor'd his knife. The brazen statues tremble,And from the marble, drops of blood distil.Erix.Now, ye just gods, if vengeance you prepare,Now find the guilty head.EnterEuphrasia, from the Tomb.Eup.Virgins, I thank you—Oh! more lightly nowMy heart expands; the pious act is done,And I have paid my tribute to a parent.Ah! wherefore 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 fateTo pious worship and to filial love.Phil.Alas! I fear to yield: awhile I'll leave thee,And at the temple's entrance wait thy coming.[Exit.Eup.Now, then, Euphrasia, now thou may'st indulgeThe purest ecstacy of soul. Come forth,Thou man of woe, thou man of every virtue.EnterEvander, from the Monument.Eva.And does the grave thus cast me up again,With a fond father's love to view thee? ThusTo 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 streamDeriv'st thy being; with unheard-of dutyThou hast repaid it to thy native source.Eup.Sprung from Evander, if a little portionOf all his goodness dwell within my heart,Thou wilt not wonder.Eva.Joy and wonder riseIn 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 stillTo view thy goodness, and applaud thy deeds,Thou author of my life?—Did ever parentThus 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 didst thou bear thy long, long suff'rings? HowEndure their barb'rous rage?Eva.My foes but didTo 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 tooInvites thee back to life.Eva.And does he stillUrge on the siege?Eup.His active genius comesTo 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, Heaven! Abroad thy spiritMoves 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!EnterPhilotas.Phil.For thee, Euphrasia, Dionysius calls.Some new suspicion goads him. At yon gateI stopp'd Calippus, as with eager hasteHe bent his way to seek thee.—Oh! my sovereign,My King, my injur'd master, will you pardonThe wrongs I've done thee?[Kneels toEvander.Eva.Virtue such as thine,From the fierce trial of tyrannic pow'r,Shines forth with added lustre.Phil.Oh! forgiveMy ardent zeal? there is no time to waste.You must withdraw; trust to your faithful friends.Pass but another day, and DionysiusFalls from a throne usurp'd.Eva.But ere he paysThe forfeit of his crimes, what streams of bloodShall flow in torrents round! Methinks I mightPrevent this waste of nature—I'll go forthAnd to my people show their rightful king.Eup.Banish that thought; forbear; the rash attemptWere fatal to our hopes; oppress'd, dismay'd,The people look aghast, and, wan with fear,None dare espouse your cause.Eva.Yes, all will dareTo act like men;—their king, I gave myselfTo a whole people. I made no reserve;My life was theirs; each drop about my heartPledg'd to the public cause; devoted to it;That was my compact; is the subjects' less?If they are all debas'd, and willing slaves,The young but breathing to grow grey in bondage,And the old sinking to ignoble graves,Of such a race no matter who is king.And yet I will not think it; no! my peopleAre brave and gen'rous; I will trust their valour.Eup.Yet stay; yet be advis'd.Phil.As yet, my liege,No plan is fix'd, and no concerted measure.The fates are busy: wait the vast event.Trust to my truth and honour. Witness, gods,Here, in the temple of Olympian Jove,Philotas swears——Eva.Forbear: the man like thee,Who feels the best emotions of the heart,Truth, reason, justice, honour's fine excitements,Acts by those laws, and wants no other sanction.Eup.Again th'alarm approaches; sure destructionTo thee, to all, will follow:—hark! a soundComes hollow murm'ring through the vaulted aisle.It gains upon the ear. Withdraw, my father;All's lost, if thou art seen.Phil.And lo! CalippusDarts with the lightning's speed across the aisle.Eva.Thou at the senate house convene my friends.Melanthon, Dion, and their brave associates,Will show, that liberty has leaders still.Anon I'll meet them there: my child, farewell;Thou shalt direct me now.[ExitPhilotas.—Evanderenters the Tomb. Eup. Coming forward.]How my distracted heart throbs wild with fear!What brings Calippus? wherefore? save me, Heaven!EnterCalippus.Cal.This sullen musing in these drear abodesAlarms suspicion: the king knows thy plottings,Thy rooted hatred to the state and him.His sov'reign will commands thee to repairThis moment to his presence.Eup.Ha! what meansThe tyrant?—I obey. [ExitCalippus.] And, oh! ye pow'rs,Ye ministers of Heaven, defend my father;Support his drooping age; and when anonAvenging justice shakes her crimson steel,Oh! be the grave at least a place of rest;That from his covert, in the hour of peace,Forth he may come to bless a willing people,And be your own just image here on earth.[Exit.
A Temple, with a Monument in the Middle.
EnterEuphrasia,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 dry'd their source; then let me here,Pay this sad visit to the honour'd clay,That moulders in the tomb. These sacred viandsI'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 pow'rs! behold that virtue,And heal the pangs that desolate her soul.
EnterPhilotas.
Phil.Mourn, mourn, ye virgins; rend your scatter'd garments:Some dread calamity hangs o'er our heads.In vain the tyrant would appease with sacrificeTh' impending wrath of ill-requited Heav'n.Ill omens hover o'er us: at the altarThe victim dropp'd, ere the divining seerHad gor'd his knife. The brazen statues tremble,And from the marble, drops of blood distil.
Erix.Now, ye just gods, if vengeance you prepare,Now find the guilty head.
EnterEuphrasia, from the Tomb.
Eup.Virgins, I thank you—Oh! more lightly nowMy heart expands; the pious act is done,And I have paid my tribute to a parent.Ah! wherefore 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 fateTo pious worship and to filial love.
Phil.Alas! I fear to yield: awhile I'll leave thee,And at the temple's entrance wait thy coming.
Eup.Now, then, Euphrasia, now thou may'st indulgeThe purest ecstacy of soul. Come forth,Thou man of woe, thou man of every virtue.
EnterEvander, from the Monument.
Eva.And does the grave thus cast me up again,With a fond father's love to view thee? ThusTo 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 streamDeriv'st thy being; with unheard-of dutyThou hast repaid it to thy native source.
Eup.Sprung from Evander, if a little portionOf all his goodness dwell within my heart,Thou wilt not wonder.
Eva.Joy and wonder riseIn 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 stillTo view thy goodness, and applaud thy deeds,Thou author of my life?—Did ever parentThus 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 didst thou bear thy long, long suff'rings? HowEndure their barb'rous rage?
Eva.My foes but didTo 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 tooInvites thee back to life.
Eva.And does he stillUrge on the siege?
Eup.His active genius comesTo 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, Heaven! Abroad thy spiritMoves 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!
EnterPhilotas.
Phil.For thee, Euphrasia, Dionysius calls.Some new suspicion goads him. At yon gateI stopp'd Calippus, as with eager hasteHe bent his way to seek thee.—Oh! my sovereign,My King, my injur'd master, will you pardonThe wrongs I've done thee?[Kneels toEvander.
Eva.Virtue such as thine,From the fierce trial of tyrannic pow'r,Shines forth with added lustre.
Phil.Oh! forgiveMy ardent zeal? there is no time to waste.You must withdraw; trust to your faithful friends.Pass but another day, and DionysiusFalls from a throne usurp'd.
Eva.But ere he paysThe forfeit of his crimes, what streams of bloodShall flow in torrents round! Methinks I mightPrevent this waste of nature—I'll go forthAnd to my people show their rightful king.
Eup.Banish that thought; forbear; the rash attemptWere fatal to our hopes; oppress'd, dismay'd,The people look aghast, and, wan with fear,None dare espouse your cause.
Eva.Yes, all will dareTo act like men;—their king, I gave myselfTo a whole people. I made no reserve;My life was theirs; each drop about my heartPledg'd to the public cause; devoted to it;That was my compact; is the subjects' less?If they are all debas'd, and willing slaves,The young but breathing to grow grey in bondage,And the old sinking to ignoble graves,Of such a race no matter who is king.And yet I will not think it; no! my peopleAre brave and gen'rous; I will trust their valour.
Eup.Yet stay; yet be advis'd.
Phil.As yet, my liege,No plan is fix'd, and no concerted measure.The fates are busy: wait the vast event.Trust to my truth and honour. Witness, gods,Here, in the temple of Olympian Jove,Philotas swears——
Eva.Forbear: the man like thee,Who feels the best emotions of the heart,Truth, reason, justice, honour's fine excitements,Acts by those laws, and wants no other sanction.
Eup.Again th'alarm approaches; sure destructionTo thee, to all, will follow:—hark! a soundComes hollow murm'ring through the vaulted aisle.It gains upon the ear. Withdraw, my father;All's lost, if thou art seen.
Phil.And lo! CalippusDarts with the lightning's speed across the aisle.
Eva.Thou at the senate house convene my friends.Melanthon, Dion, and their brave associates,Will show, that liberty has leaders still.Anon I'll meet them there: my child, farewell;Thou shalt direct me now.[ExitPhilotas.—Evanderenters the Tomb. Eup. Coming forward.]How my distracted heart throbs wild with fear!What brings Calippus? wherefore? save me, Heaven!
EnterCalippus.
Cal.This sullen musing in these drear abodesAlarms suspicion: the king knows thy plottings,Thy rooted hatred to the state and him.His sov'reign will commands thee to repairThis moment to his presence.
Eup.Ha! what meansThe tyrant?—I obey. [ExitCalippus.] And, oh! ye pow'rs,Ye ministers of Heaven, defend my father;Support his drooping age; and when anonAvenging justice shakes her crimson steel,Oh! be the grave at least a place of rest;That from his covert, in the hour of peace,Forth he may come to bless a willing people,And be your own just image here on earth.[Exit.
EnterDionysius,Calippus, &c.Dio.Away each vain alarm; the sun goes down:Nor yet Timoleon issues from his fleet.There let him linger on the wave-worn beach;Here the vain Greek shall find another Troy,A more than Hector here. Though Carthage fly,Ourself, still Dionysius, here remains.And means the Greek to treat of terms of peace?By Heav'n, this panting bosom hop'd to meetHis boasted phalanx on the embattled plain.And doth he now, on peaceful councils bent,Despatch his herald?—Let the slave approach.Enter theHerald.Now speak thy purpose; what doth Greece impart?Her.Timoleon, sir, whose great renown in armsIs equall'd only by the softer virtuesOf mild humanity, that sway his heart,Sends me his delegate to offer terms,On which ev'n foes may well accord; on whichThe fiercest nature, though it spurns at justice,May sympathize with his.Dio.Unfold thy mystery;Thou shalt be heard.Her.The gen'rous leader sees,With pity sees, the wild destructive havocOf ruthless war; he hath survey'd aroundThe heaps of slain that cover yonder field,And, touch'd with gen'rous sense of human woe,Weeps o'er his victories.Dio.Your leader weeps!Then let the author of those ills thou speak'st of,Let the ambitious factor of destruction,Timely retreat, and close the scene of blood.Why doth affrighted peace behold his standardUprear'd in Sicily? and wherefore hereThe iron ranks of war, from which the shepherdRetires appall'd, and leaves the blasted hopesOf half the year, while closer to her breastThe mother clasps her infant?Her.'Tis not mineTo plead Timoleon's cause; not mine the officeTo justify the strong, the righteous motivesThat urge him to the war: the only scopeMy deputation aims at, is to fixAn interval of peace, a pause of horror,That they, whose bodies, on the naked shore,Lie weltering in their blood, from either hostMay meet the last sad rites to nature due,And decent lie in honourable graves.Dio.Go tell your leader, his pretexts are vain.Let him, with those that live, embark for Greece,And leave our peaceful plains; the mangled limbsOf those he murder'd, from my tender careShall meet due obsequies.Her.The hero, sir,Wages no war with those, who bravely die.'Tis for the dead I supplicate; for themWe sue for peace; and to the living tooTimoleon would extend it, but the groansOf a whole people have unsheath'd his sword.A single day will pay the funeral rites.To-morrow's sun may see both armies meetWithout hostility, and all in honour;You to inter the troops who bravely fell;We, on our part, to give an humble sodTo those, who gain'd a footing on the isle,And by their death have conquer'd.Dio.Be it so;I grant thy suit: soon as to-morrow's dawnIllume the world, the rage of wasting warIn vain shall thirst for blood.Thou know'st my last resolve, and now farewell.Some careful officer conduct him forth.[ExitHerald.By Heav'n, the Greek hath offered to my swordAn easy prey; a sacrifice to glutMy great revenge. Calippus, let each soldierThis night resign his wearied limbs to rest,That ere the dawn, with renovated strength,On the unguarded, unsuspecting foe,Disarm'd, and bent on superstitious rites,From every quarter we may rush undaunted,Give the invaders to the deathful steel,And by one carnage bury all in ruin.My valiant friends, haste to your several posts,And let this night a calm unruffled spiritLie hush'd in sleep: away, my friends, disperse.Philotas, waits Euphrasia as we order'd?Phil.She's here at hand.Dio.Admit her to our presence.Rage and despair, a thousand warring passions,All rise by turns, and piecemeal rend my heart.Yet ev'ry means, all measures must be tried,To sweep the Grecian spoiler from the land,And fix the crown unshaken on my brow.EnterEuphrasia.Eup.What sudden cause requires Euphrasia's presence?Dio.Approach, fair mourner, and dispel thy fears.Thy grief, thy tender duty to thy father,Has touch'd me nearly. In his lone retreat,Respect, attendance, every lenient careTo sooth affliction, and extend his life,Evander has commanded.Eup.Vile dissembler!Detested homicide! [Aside.]—And has thy heartFelt for the wretched?Dio.Urgencies of stateAbridg'd his liberty; but to his personAll honour hath been paid.Eup.The righteous godsHave mark'd thy ways, and will in time repayJust retribution.Dio.If to see your father,If here to meet him in a fond embrace,Will calm thy breast, and dry those beauteous tears,A moment more shall bring him to your presence.Eup.Ha! lead him hither! Sir, to move him now,Aged, infirm, worn out with toil and years—No, let me seek him rather—If soft pityHas touch'd your heart, oh! send me, send me to him.Dio.Control this wild alarm; with prudent carePhilotas shall conduct him; here I grantThe tender interview.Eup.Disastrous fate!Ruin impends!—This will discover all!I'll perish first.[Aside.Though much I languish to behold my father,Yet now it were not fit—the sun goes down;Night falls apace; soon as returning day—Dio.This night, this very hour, you both must meet.Together you may serve the state and me.Thou seest the havoc of wide wasting war;And more, full well you know, are still to bleed.Thou may'st prevent their fate.Eup.Oh! give the means,And I will bless thee for it.Dio.From a GreekTorments have wrung the truth. Thy husband, Phocion—Eup.Oh! say, speak of my Phocion.Dio.He; 'tis heHath kindled up this war; with treacherous artsInflam'd the states of Greece; and now the traitorComes with a foreign aid to wrest my crown.Eup.And does my Phocion share Timoleon's glory?Dio.With him invests our walls, and bids rebellionErect her standard here.Eup.Oh! bless him gods!Where'er my hero treads the paths of war,List on his side; against the hostile javelinUprear his mighty buckler; to his swordLend the fierce whirlwind's rage, that he may comeWith wreaths of triumph, and with conquest crown'd,And a whole nation's voiceApplaud my hero with a love like mine!Dio.Ungrateful fair! Has not our sovereign willOn thy descendants fix'd Sicilia's crown?Have I not vow'd protection to your boy?Eup.From thee the crown! from thee! Euphrasia's childrenShall on a nobler basis found their rights;On their own virtue, and a people's choice.Dio.Misguided woman!Eup.Ask of thee protection!The father's valour shall protect his boy.Dio.Rush not on sure destruction; ere too lateAccept our proffer'd grace. The terms are these;Instant send forth a message to your husband;Bid him draw off his Greeks! unmoor his fleet,And measure back his way. Full well he knowsYou and your father are my hostages;And for his treason both may answer.Eup.Think'st thou thenSo meanly of my Phocion?—Dost thou deem himPoorly wound up to a mere fit of valour,To melt away in a weak woman's tear?Oh! thou dost little know him; know'st but littleOf his exalted soul. With gen'rous ardourStill will he urge the great, the glorious plan,And gain the ever honour'd bright reward,Which fame entwines around the patriot's brow,And bids for ever flourish on his tomb,For nations freed, and tyrants laid in dust.Dio.By Heav'n, this night Evander breathes his last.Eup.Better for him to sink at once to rest,Than linger thus beneath the gripe of famine,In a vile dungeon, scoop'd with barb'rous skillDeep in the flinty rock; a monumentOf that fell malice, and that black suspicion,That mark'd your father's reign; a dungeon drear,Prepar'd for innocence!—Vice liv'd secure,It flourish'd, triumph'd, grateful to his heart;'Twas virtue only could give umbrage; then,In that black period, to be great and goodWas a state crime; the pow'rs of genius thenWere a constructive treason.Dio.Now your father's doomIs fix'd; irrevocably fix'd.Eup.Thy doom, perhaps,May first be fix'd; the doom that ever waitsThe fell oppressor, from a throne usurp'dHurl'd headlong down. Think of thy father's fateAt Corinth, Dionysius!Dio.Ha! this nightEvander dies; and thou, detested fair!Thou shalt behold him, while inventive crueltyPursues his wearied life through every nerve.I scorn all dull delay. This very nightShall sate my great revenge.[Exit.Eup.This night, perhaps,Shall whelm thee down, no more to blast creation.My father, who inhabit'st with the dead,Now let me seek thee in the lonely tomb,And tremble there with anxious hope and fear.[Exit.
EnterDionysius,Calippus, &c.
Dio.Away each vain alarm; the sun goes down:Nor yet Timoleon issues from his fleet.There let him linger on the wave-worn beach;Here the vain Greek shall find another Troy,A more than Hector here. Though Carthage fly,Ourself, still Dionysius, here remains.And means the Greek to treat of terms of peace?By Heav'n, this panting bosom hop'd to meetHis boasted phalanx on the embattled plain.And doth he now, on peaceful councils bent,Despatch his herald?—Let the slave approach.
Enter theHerald.
Now speak thy purpose; what doth Greece impart?
Her.Timoleon, sir, whose great renown in armsIs equall'd only by the softer virtuesOf mild humanity, that sway his heart,Sends me his delegate to offer terms,On which ev'n foes may well accord; on whichThe fiercest nature, though it spurns at justice,May sympathize with his.
Dio.Unfold thy mystery;Thou shalt be heard.
Her.The gen'rous leader sees,With pity sees, the wild destructive havocOf ruthless war; he hath survey'd aroundThe heaps of slain that cover yonder field,And, touch'd with gen'rous sense of human woe,Weeps o'er his victories.
Dio.Your leader weeps!Then let the author of those ills thou speak'st of,Let the ambitious factor of destruction,Timely retreat, and close the scene of blood.Why doth affrighted peace behold his standardUprear'd in Sicily? and wherefore hereThe iron ranks of war, from which the shepherdRetires appall'd, and leaves the blasted hopesOf half the year, while closer to her breastThe mother clasps her infant?
Her.'Tis not mineTo plead Timoleon's cause; not mine the officeTo justify the strong, the righteous motivesThat urge him to the war: the only scopeMy deputation aims at, is to fixAn interval of peace, a pause of horror,That they, whose bodies, on the naked shore,Lie weltering in their blood, from either hostMay meet the last sad rites to nature due,And decent lie in honourable graves.
Dio.Go tell your leader, his pretexts are vain.Let him, with those that live, embark for Greece,And leave our peaceful plains; the mangled limbsOf those he murder'd, from my tender careShall meet due obsequies.
Her.The hero, sir,Wages no war with those, who bravely die.'Tis for the dead I supplicate; for themWe sue for peace; and to the living tooTimoleon would extend it, but the groansOf a whole people have unsheath'd his sword.A single day will pay the funeral rites.To-morrow's sun may see both armies meetWithout hostility, and all in honour;You to inter the troops who bravely fell;We, on our part, to give an humble sodTo those, who gain'd a footing on the isle,And by their death have conquer'd.
Dio.Be it so;I grant thy suit: soon as to-morrow's dawnIllume the world, the rage of wasting warIn vain shall thirst for blood.Thou know'st my last resolve, and now farewell.Some careful officer conduct him forth.[ExitHerald.
By Heav'n, the Greek hath offered to my swordAn easy prey; a sacrifice to glutMy great revenge. Calippus, let each soldierThis night resign his wearied limbs to rest,That ere the dawn, with renovated strength,On the unguarded, unsuspecting foe,Disarm'd, and bent on superstitious rites,From every quarter we may rush undaunted,Give the invaders to the deathful steel,And by one carnage bury all in ruin.My valiant friends, haste to your several posts,And let this night a calm unruffled spiritLie hush'd in sleep: away, my friends, disperse.Philotas, waits Euphrasia as we order'd?
Phil.She's here at hand.
Dio.Admit her to our presence.Rage and despair, a thousand warring passions,All rise by turns, and piecemeal rend my heart.Yet ev'ry means, all measures must be tried,To sweep the Grecian spoiler from the land,And fix the crown unshaken on my brow.
EnterEuphrasia.
Eup.What sudden cause requires Euphrasia's presence?
Dio.Approach, fair mourner, and dispel thy fears.Thy grief, thy tender duty to thy father,Has touch'd me nearly. In his lone retreat,Respect, attendance, every lenient careTo sooth affliction, and extend his life,Evander has commanded.
Eup.Vile dissembler!Detested homicide! [Aside.]—And has thy heartFelt for the wretched?
Dio.Urgencies of stateAbridg'd his liberty; but to his personAll honour hath been paid.
Eup.The righteous godsHave mark'd thy ways, and will in time repayJust retribution.
Dio.If to see your father,If here to meet him in a fond embrace,Will calm thy breast, and dry those beauteous tears,A moment more shall bring him to your presence.
Eup.Ha! lead him hither! Sir, to move him now,Aged, infirm, worn out with toil and years—No, let me seek him rather—If soft pityHas touch'd your heart, oh! send me, send me to him.
Dio.Control this wild alarm; with prudent carePhilotas shall conduct him; here I grantThe tender interview.
Eup.Disastrous fate!Ruin impends!—This will discover all!I'll perish first.[Aside.Though much I languish to behold my father,Yet now it were not fit—the sun goes down;Night falls apace; soon as returning day—
Dio.This night, this very hour, you both must meet.Together you may serve the state and me.Thou seest the havoc of wide wasting war;And more, full well you know, are still to bleed.Thou may'st prevent their fate.
Eup.Oh! give the means,And I will bless thee for it.
Dio.From a GreekTorments have wrung the truth. Thy husband, Phocion—
Eup.Oh! say, speak of my Phocion.
Dio.He; 'tis heHath kindled up this war; with treacherous artsInflam'd the states of Greece; and now the traitorComes with a foreign aid to wrest my crown.
Eup.And does my Phocion share Timoleon's glory?
Dio.With him invests our walls, and bids rebellionErect her standard here.
Eup.Oh! bless him gods!Where'er my hero treads the paths of war,List on his side; against the hostile javelinUprear his mighty buckler; to his swordLend the fierce whirlwind's rage, that he may comeWith wreaths of triumph, and with conquest crown'd,And a whole nation's voiceApplaud my hero with a love like mine!
Dio.Ungrateful fair! Has not our sovereign willOn thy descendants fix'd Sicilia's crown?Have I not vow'd protection to your boy?
Eup.From thee the crown! from thee! Euphrasia's childrenShall on a nobler basis found their rights;On their own virtue, and a people's choice.
Dio.Misguided woman!
Eup.Ask of thee protection!The father's valour shall protect his boy.
Dio.Rush not on sure destruction; ere too lateAccept our proffer'd grace. The terms are these;Instant send forth a message to your husband;Bid him draw off his Greeks! unmoor his fleet,And measure back his way. Full well he knowsYou and your father are my hostages;And for his treason both may answer.
Eup.Think'st thou thenSo meanly of my Phocion?—Dost thou deem himPoorly wound up to a mere fit of valour,To melt away in a weak woman's tear?Oh! thou dost little know him; know'st but littleOf his exalted soul. With gen'rous ardourStill will he urge the great, the glorious plan,And gain the ever honour'd bright reward,Which fame entwines around the patriot's brow,And bids for ever flourish on his tomb,For nations freed, and tyrants laid in dust.
Dio.By Heav'n, this night Evander breathes his last.
Eup.Better for him to sink at once to rest,Than linger thus beneath the gripe of famine,In a vile dungeon, scoop'd with barb'rous skillDeep in the flinty rock; a monumentOf that fell malice, and that black suspicion,That mark'd your father's reign; a dungeon drear,Prepar'd for innocence!—Vice liv'd secure,It flourish'd, triumph'd, grateful to his heart;'Twas virtue only could give umbrage; then,In that black period, to be great and goodWas a state crime; the pow'rs of genius thenWere a constructive treason.
Dio.Now your father's doomIs fix'd; irrevocably fix'd.
Eup.Thy doom, perhaps,May first be fix'd; the doom that ever waitsThe fell oppressor, from a throne usurp'dHurl'd headlong down. Think of thy father's fateAt Corinth, Dionysius!
Dio.Ha! this nightEvander dies; and thou, detested fair!Thou shalt behold him, while inventive crueltyPursues his wearied life through every nerve.I scorn all dull delay. This very nightShall sate my great revenge.[Exit.
Eup.This night, perhaps,Shall whelm thee down, no more to blast creation.My father, who inhabit'st with the dead,Now let me seek thee in the lonely tomb,And tremble there with anxious hope and fear.[Exit.
The Inside of the Temple.EnterPhocionandMelanthon.Phoc.Each step I move, a grateful terror shakesMy frame to dissolution.Mel.Summon allThy wonted firmness; in that dreary vaultA living king is number'd with the dead.I'll take my post, near where the pillar'd aisleSupports the central dome, that no alarmSurprise you in the pious act.[Exit.Phoc.If hereThey both are found; if in Evander's armsEuphrasia meets my search, the fates atoneFor all my suff'rings, all afflictions past.Yes, I will seek them—ha!—the gaping tombInvites my steps—now, be propitious Heaven![He enters the Tomb.EnterEuphrasia.Eup.All hail, ye caves of horror!—In this gloomDivine content can dwell, the heartfelt tear,Which, as it falls, a father's trembling handWill catch, and wipe the sorrows from my eye,Thou Pow'r supreme! whose all-pervading mindGuides this great frame of things; who now behold'st me,Who, in that cave of death, art full as perfectAs in the gorgeous palace, now, while nightBroods o'er the world, I'll to thy sacred shrine,And supplicate thy mercies to my father.Who's there?—Evander?——Answer——tell me——speak——EnterPhocion, from the Tomb.Phoc.What voice is that?—Melanthon!Eup.Ha! those sounds!—Speak of Evander; tell me that he lives,Or lost Euphrasia dies.Phoc.Heart-swelling transport!Art thou Euphrasia? 'tis thy Phocion, love;Thy husband comes.Eup.Support me;—reach thy hand.Phoc.Once more I clasp her in this fond embrace!Eup.What miracle has brought thee to me?Phoc.LoveInspir'd my heart, and guided all my ways.Eup.Oh, thou dear wanderer! But wherefore here?Why in this place of woe? My tender little one,—Say, is he safe? Oh! satisfy a mother;Speak of my child, or I go wild at once!Tell me his fate, and tell me all thy own.Phoc.Your boy is safe, Euphrasia; lives to reignIn Sicily: Timoleon's gen'rous careProtects him in his camp:—dispel thy fears;The gods once more will give him to thy arms.Eup.My father lives sepulchred ere his time,Here in Eudocia's tomb; let me conduct thee.Phoc.I came this moment thence.Eup.And saw Evander?Phoc.Alas! I found him not.Eup.Not found him there?—And have they then—Have the fell murderers—Oh![Faints away.Phoc.I've been too rash; revive, my love, revive;Thy Phocion calls; the gods will guard Evander,And save him to reward thy matchless virtue.EnterEvanderandMelanthon.Eva.Lead me, Melanthon; guide my aged steps;Where is he? let me see him.Phoc.My Euphrasia;Thy father lives;—thou venerable man!Behold!—I cannot fly to thy embrace.Eup.These agonies must end me—ah, my father!Again I have him, gracious pow'rs! againI clasp his hand, and bathe it with my tears.Eva.Euphrasia!—Phocion, too!—Yes, both are here!Oh, let me thus, thus strain you to my heart.Phoc.Protected by a daughter's tender care,By my Euphrasia sav'd! That sweet reflectionExalts the bliss to rapture.Eup.Why, my father,Why thus adventure forth! The strong alarmO'erwhelm'd my spirits.Eva.I went forth, my child,When all was dark, and awful silence round,To throw me prostrate at the altar's foot,And crave the care of Heav'n for thee and thine.Melanthon there——EnterPhilotas.Phil.Inevitable ruin hovers o'er you:The tyrant's fury mounts into a blaze;Unsated yet with blood, he calls aloudFor thee, Evander! thee his rage hath order'dThis moment to his presence.Eva.Lead me to him:His presence hath no terror for Evander.Eup.Horror! It must not be.Phil.No, never, never:I'll perish rather! But the time demandsOur utmost vigour. His policy has grantedA day's suspense from arms; yet even nowHis troops prepare, in the dead midnight hour,With base surprise to storm Timoleon's camp.Eva.And doth he grant a false insidious truce,To turn the hour of peace to blood and horror?Eup.I know the monster well: when specious seemingBecalms his looks, the rankling heart withinTeems with destruction.Mel.Now, Phocion, now, on thee our hope depends.Fly to Timoleon; I can grant a passport:Rouse him to vengeance; on the tyrant turnHis own insidious arts, or all is lost.Phoc.Evander thou, and thou, my best Euphrasia,Both shall attend my flight.Mel.It were in vain;Th'attempt would hazard all.Eup.Together hereWe will remain, safe in the cave of death;And wait our freedom from thy conqu'ring arm.Eva.Oh, would the gods roll back the stream of time,And give this arm the sinew that it boastedAt Tauromenium, when its force resistlessMow'd down the ranks of war: I then might guideThe battle's rage, and, ere Evander die,Add still another laurel to my brow.Eup.Enough of laurell'd victory your swordHath reap'd in earlier days.Eva.And shall my sword,When the great cause of liberty invites,Remain inactive, unperforming quite?Youth, second youth, rekindles in my veins:Tho' worn with age, this arm will know its office;Will show, that victory has not forgotAcquaintance with this hand.—And yet—O shameIt will not be: the momentary blazeSinks, and expires: I have survived it all;Surviv'd my reign, my people, and myself.Eup.Fly, Phocion, fly; Melanthon will conduct thee.Mel.And, when th'assault begins, my faithful cohortsShall form their ranks around this sacred dome.Phoc.And my poor captive friends, my brave companionsTaken in battle, wilt thou guard their lives?Mel.Trust to my care: no danger shall assail them.Phoc.By Heav'n, the glorious expectation swellsThis panting bosom! Yes, Euphrasia, yes;A while I leave you to the care of Heaven.Fell Dionysius tremble; ere the dawnTimoleon thunders at your gates! the rage,The pent-up rage, of twenty thousand Greeks,Shall burst at once; and the tumultuous roar,Alarm th'astonish'd world.Eva.Yet, ere thou go'st, young man,Attend my words: Tho' guilt may oft provoke,As now it does, just vengeance on its head,In mercy punish it. The rage of slaughterCan add no trophy to the victor's triumph;Bid him not shed unnecessary blood.Conquest is proud, inexorable, fierce;It is humanity ennobles all.So thinks Evander, and so tell Timoleon.Phoc.Farewell;—the midnight hour shall give you freedom.[Exit, withMelanthonandPhilotas.Eup.Ye guardian deities, watch all his ways.Eva.Come, my Euphrasia, in this intervalTogether we will seek the sacred altar,And thank the God, whose presence fills the dome,For all the wond'rous goodness lavish'd on us.[Exeunt.
The Inside of the Temple.
EnterPhocionandMelanthon.
Phoc.Each step I move, a grateful terror shakesMy frame to dissolution.
Mel.Summon allThy wonted firmness; in that dreary vaultA living king is number'd with the dead.I'll take my post, near where the pillar'd aisleSupports the central dome, that no alarmSurprise you in the pious act.[Exit.
Phoc.If hereThey both are found; if in Evander's armsEuphrasia meets my search, the fates atoneFor all my suff'rings, all afflictions past.Yes, I will seek them—ha!—the gaping tombInvites my steps—now, be propitious Heaven![He enters the Tomb.
EnterEuphrasia.
Eup.All hail, ye caves of horror!—In this gloomDivine content can dwell, the heartfelt tear,Which, as it falls, a father's trembling handWill catch, and wipe the sorrows from my eye,Thou Pow'r supreme! whose all-pervading mindGuides this great frame of things; who now behold'st me,Who, in that cave of death, art full as perfectAs in the gorgeous palace, now, while nightBroods o'er the world, I'll to thy sacred shrine,And supplicate thy mercies to my father.Who's there?—Evander?——Answer——tell me——speak——
EnterPhocion, from the Tomb.
Phoc.What voice is that?—Melanthon!
Eup.Ha! those sounds!—Speak of Evander; tell me that he lives,Or lost Euphrasia dies.
Phoc.Heart-swelling transport!Art thou Euphrasia? 'tis thy Phocion, love;Thy husband comes.
Eup.Support me;—reach thy hand.
Phoc.Once more I clasp her in this fond embrace!
Eup.What miracle has brought thee to me?
Phoc.LoveInspir'd my heart, and guided all my ways.
Eup.Oh, thou dear wanderer! But wherefore here?Why in this place of woe? My tender little one,—Say, is he safe? Oh! satisfy a mother;Speak of my child, or I go wild at once!Tell me his fate, and tell me all thy own.
Phoc.Your boy is safe, Euphrasia; lives to reignIn Sicily: Timoleon's gen'rous careProtects him in his camp:—dispel thy fears;The gods once more will give him to thy arms.
Eup.My father lives sepulchred ere his time,Here in Eudocia's tomb; let me conduct thee.
Phoc.I came this moment thence.
Eup.And saw Evander?
Phoc.Alas! I found him not.
Eup.Not found him there?—And have they then—Have the fell murderers—Oh![Faints away.
Phoc.I've been too rash; revive, my love, revive;Thy Phocion calls; the gods will guard Evander,And save him to reward thy matchless virtue.
EnterEvanderandMelanthon.
Eva.Lead me, Melanthon; guide my aged steps;Where is he? let me see him.
Phoc.My Euphrasia;Thy father lives;—thou venerable man!Behold!—I cannot fly to thy embrace.
Eup.These agonies must end me—ah, my father!Again I have him, gracious pow'rs! againI clasp his hand, and bathe it with my tears.
Eva.Euphrasia!—Phocion, too!—Yes, both are here!Oh, let me thus, thus strain you to my heart.
Phoc.Protected by a daughter's tender care,By my Euphrasia sav'd! That sweet reflectionExalts the bliss to rapture.
Eup.Why, my father,Why thus adventure forth! The strong alarmO'erwhelm'd my spirits.
Eva.I went forth, my child,When all was dark, and awful silence round,To throw me prostrate at the altar's foot,And crave the care of Heav'n for thee and thine.Melanthon there——
EnterPhilotas.
Phil.Inevitable ruin hovers o'er you:The tyrant's fury mounts into a blaze;Unsated yet with blood, he calls aloudFor thee, Evander! thee his rage hath order'dThis moment to his presence.
Eva.Lead me to him:His presence hath no terror for Evander.
Eup.Horror! It must not be.
Phil.No, never, never:I'll perish rather! But the time demandsOur utmost vigour. His policy has grantedA day's suspense from arms; yet even nowHis troops prepare, in the dead midnight hour,With base surprise to storm Timoleon's camp.
Eva.And doth he grant a false insidious truce,To turn the hour of peace to blood and horror?
Eup.I know the monster well: when specious seemingBecalms his looks, the rankling heart withinTeems with destruction.
Mel.Now, Phocion, now, on thee our hope depends.Fly to Timoleon; I can grant a passport:Rouse him to vengeance; on the tyrant turnHis own insidious arts, or all is lost.
Phoc.Evander thou, and thou, my best Euphrasia,Both shall attend my flight.
Mel.It were in vain;Th'attempt would hazard all.
Eup.Together hereWe will remain, safe in the cave of death;And wait our freedom from thy conqu'ring arm.
Eva.Oh, would the gods roll back the stream of time,And give this arm the sinew that it boastedAt Tauromenium, when its force resistlessMow'd down the ranks of war: I then might guideThe battle's rage, and, ere Evander die,Add still another laurel to my brow.
Eup.Enough of laurell'd victory your swordHath reap'd in earlier days.
Eva.And shall my sword,When the great cause of liberty invites,Remain inactive, unperforming quite?Youth, second youth, rekindles in my veins:Tho' worn with age, this arm will know its office;Will show, that victory has not forgotAcquaintance with this hand.—And yet—O shameIt will not be: the momentary blazeSinks, and expires: I have survived it all;Surviv'd my reign, my people, and myself.
Eup.Fly, Phocion, fly; Melanthon will conduct thee.
Mel.And, when th'assault begins, my faithful cohortsShall form their ranks around this sacred dome.
Phoc.And my poor captive friends, my brave companionsTaken in battle, wilt thou guard their lives?
Mel.Trust to my care: no danger shall assail them.
Phoc.By Heav'n, the glorious expectation swellsThis panting bosom! Yes, Euphrasia, yes;A while I leave you to the care of Heaven.Fell Dionysius tremble; ere the dawnTimoleon thunders at your gates! the rage,The pent-up rage, of twenty thousand Greeks,Shall burst at once; and the tumultuous roar,Alarm th'astonish'd world.
Eva.Yet, ere thou go'st, young man,Attend my words: Tho' guilt may oft provoke,As now it does, just vengeance on its head,In mercy punish it. The rage of slaughterCan add no trophy to the victor's triumph;Bid him not shed unnecessary blood.Conquest is proud, inexorable, fierce;It is humanity ennobles all.So thinks Evander, and so tell Timoleon.
Phoc.Farewell;—the midnight hour shall give you freedom.[Exit, withMelanthonandPhilotas.
Eup.Ye guardian deities, watch all his ways.
Eva.Come, my Euphrasia, in this intervalTogether we will seek the sacred altar,And thank the God, whose presence fills the dome,For all the wond'rous goodness lavish'd on us.[Exeunt.