How

Euph. Timoleon too

Invites thee back to life.

Evan. And does he still

Urge on the siege?

Euph. His active genius comes

To scourge a guilty race. The Punic fleet,
Half lost, is swallowed by the roaring sea.
The shattered refuse seek the Libyan shore,
To bear the news of their defeat to Carthage.
Evan. These are thy wonders, Heaven! Abroad
thy spirit

Moves o'er the deep, and mighty fleets are vanished.

Euph. Ha!-hark !—what noise is that? It comes this way;

Some busy footstep beats the hallowed pavement. Oh! Sir, retire-Ye powers !-Philotas!-ha!

Evan. But ere he pays

The forfeit of his crimes, what streams of blood
Shall flow in torrents round! Methinks I might
Prevent this waste of nature-I'll go forth,
And to my people shew their rightful king.
Euph. Banish that thought: forbear; the rash
attempt

Were fatal to our hopes; oppressed, dismayed,
The people look aghast, and, wan with fear,
None will espouse your cause.

Evan. Yes, all will dare

To act like men ;-their king, I gave myself
To a whole people. I made no reserve;

Pledged to the public cause; devoted to it:
That was my compact: is the subject's less?
If they are all debased, 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 people
Are brave and generous; I will trust their va

lour.

Euph. Yet stay; yet be advised.
Phil. As yet, my liege,

No plan is fixed, 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-

Evan. 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.
Euph. Again the alarm approaches; sure des-

truction

To thee, to all, will follow :-hark! a sound Comes hollow murmuring through the vaulted aisle.

It gains upon the ear. Withdraw, my father! All's lost if thou art seen.

Phil. And, lo! Calippus

Darts with the lightning's speed across the aisle. Evan. Thou at the senate-house convene my friends.

Melanthon, Dion, and their brave associates,
Will shew that liberty has leaders still.
Anon I'll meet them there: my child, farewell;
Thou shalt direct me now.

Cal. This sullen musing in these drear abodes Alarms suspicion: the king knows thy plottings, Thy rooted hatred to the state and him. His sovereign will commands thee to repair, This moment, to his presence.

Euph. Ha! what means

The tyrant !I obey, [Exit CAL.] and, oh ! ye powers,

Ye ministers of Heaven! defend my father;
Support his drooping age; and when anon
Avenging 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.

SCENE I.

Enter MELANTION and PHILOTAS. Mel. Away! no more; pernicious, vile dissembler!

Phil. Wherefore this frantic rage?
Melan. Thou canst not varnish,
With thy perfidious arts, a crime like this.

I climbed the rugged cliff; but, oh! thou traitor, Where is Evander! Through each dungeon's gloom

I sought the good old king; the guilt is thine; May vengeance wait thee for it!

Phil. Still, Melanthon,

Let prudence guide thee.

Melan, Thou hast plunged thee down Far as the lowest depth of hell-born crimes; Thou hast out-gone all registers of guilt; 'Beyond all fable hast thou sinned, Philotas. Phil. By Heaven thou wrong'st me: didst thou know, old man

Melan. Could not his reverend age, could not
his virtue,

His woes unnumbered, soften thee to pity?
Thou hast destroyed my king.

Phil. Yet wilt thou hear me?

Your king still lives.

Melan. Thou vile deceiver !-Lives! But where! Away; no more. I charge thee, leave me.

Phil. We have removed him to a sure asylum. Melan. Removed!-Thou traitor! what dark privacy

Why move him thence? The vile assassin's stab Has closed his days-calm, unrelenting villain ! I know it all.

Phil. By every power above,

Evander lives; in safety lives. Last night,
When in his dark embrace sleep wrapt the world,
Euphrasia came, a spectacle of woe;
Dared to approach our guard, and with her tears,
With vehemence of grief, she touched my heart.
I gave her father to her.

Melan. How, Philotas!

If thou dost not deceive me

Phil. No, by Heaven!

By every power above-But hark! those notes
Speak Dionysius near; anon, my friend,
I'll tell thee cach particular; thy king,
Mean while, is safe-but lo! the tyrant comes;
With guilt like his I must equivocate,
And teach even truth and honour to dissemble.

Enter DIONYSIUS, CALIPPUS, &c.

Dion. 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 Greck 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 Heaven, this panting bosom hoped to meet
His boasted phalanx on the embattled plain.
And doth he now, on peaceful councils bent,
Dispatch his herald?-Let the slave approach.
Enter the Herald.

Dion. Now, speak thy purpose; what doth
Greece impart?

Her. Timoleon, sir, whose great renown in

arms

Is equalled only by the softer virtues
Of mild humanity, that sway his heart,
Sends me, his delegate, to offer terms,
On which even foes may well accord; on which
The fiercest nature, though it spurn at justice,
May sympathise with his.

Dion. Unfold thy mystery;
Thou shalt be heard.

Her. The generous leader sees, With pity sees, the wild destructive havock Of ruthless war; he hath surveyed around The heaps of slain that cover yonder field, And, touched with generous sense of human woe, Weeps o'er his victories.

Dion. 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 standard Upreared in Sicily? and wherefore here The iron ranks of war, from which the shepherd Retires appalled, and leaves the blasted hopes Of half the year, while closer to her breast The mother clasps her infant?

Her. 'Tis not mine

To plead Timoleon's cause; not mine the office To justify the strong, the righteous motives, That urge him to the war; the only scope My deputation aims at, is, to fix

An interval of peace, a pause of horror, That they, whose bodies on the naked shore Lie weltering in their blood, from either host May meet the last sad rites to nature due, And decent lie in honourable graves.

Dion. Go tell your leader, his pretexts are vain. Let him with those that live, embark for Greece, And leave our peaceful plains; the mangled limbs Of those he murdered, from my tender care Shall meet due obsequies.

Her. The hero, sir,

Wages no war with those, who bravely die.
'Tis for the dead I supplicate; for them
We sue for peace: and to the living, too,
Timoleon would extend it; but the groans
Of a whole people have unsheathed his sword
A single day will pay the funeral rites.
To-morrow's sun inay see both armies meet

I grant thy suit: soon as to-morrow's dawn
Illumes the world, the rage of wasting war
In vain shall thirst for blood: but mark my words;
If the next orient sun behold you here,
That hour shall see me, terrible in arms,
Deluge yon plain, and let destruction loose.
Thou know'st my last resolve, and now, farewell.
Some careful officer conduct him forth.

[Exit Herald.
By Heaven, the Greek hath offered to my sword
An easy prey; a sacrifice to glut
My great revenge. Calippus, let each soldier,
This night, resign his wearied limbs to rest,
That ere the dawn, with renovated strength,
On the unguarded, unsuspecting foe,
Disarmed, 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 spirit
Lie hushed in sleep: away, my friends, disperse !
Philotas, waits Euphrasia, as we ordered?
Phil. She's here at hand.

Dion. Admit her to our presence. Rage and despair, a thousand warring passions, All rise, by turns, and piecemeal rend my heart. Yet every means, all measures must be tried, To sweep the Grecian spoiler from the land, And fix the crown, unshaken, on my brow.

Enter EUPHRASIA.

Euph. What sudden cause requires Euphrasia's presence?

Dion. Approach, fair mourner, and dispel thy fears.

Thy grief, thy tender duty to thy father

Has touched me nearly. In his lone retreat,
Respect, attendance, every lenient care
To sooth affliction, and extend his life,
Evander has commanded.

Euph. Vile dissembler!

Detested homicide! [Aside.]—And has thy heart Felt for the wretched?

Dion. Urgencies of state

Abridged his liberty; but to his person
All honour hath been paid.

Euph. The righteous gods

Have marked thy ways, and will in time repay Just retribution.

Dion. 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. Euph. 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 pity

Together, you may serve the state and me.
Thou seest the havock of wide-wasting war;
And more, full well you know, are still to bleed,
Thou may'st prevent their fate.

Euph. Oh! give the means,

And I will bless thee for it,
Dion. From a Greek,

Torments have wrung the truth. Thy husband,
Phocion--

Euph. Oh! say, speak of my Phocion !
Dion. He, 'tis he

Hath kindled up this war; with treacherous arts Inflamed the states of Greece, and now the traitor

Comes, with a foreign aid, to wrest my crown. Euph. And does my Phocion share Timoleon's glory?

Dion. With him invests our walls, and bids rebellion

Erect her standard here.

Euph. Oh! bless him, gods!

Where'er my hero treads the paths of war,
List on his side; against the hostile javelin
Uprear his mighty buckler; to his sword
Lend the fierce whirlwind's rage, that he may

come

With wreaths of triumph, and with conquest crowned,

And his Euphrasia spring with rapture to him, Melt in his arms, and a whole nation's voice Applaud my hero with a love like mine!

Dion. Ungrateful fair! Has not our sovereign will

On thy descendants fixed Sicilia's crown?
Have I not vowed protection to your boy?
Euph. From thee the crown! From thee! Eu-
phrasia's children

Shall on a nobler basis found their rights;
On their own virtue, and a people's choice.
Dion. Misguided woman!
Euph. Ask of thee protection!
The father's valour shall protect his boy.

Dion. Rush not on sure destruction; ere too

late,

Accept our proffered 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 knows
You and your father are my hostages;
And for his treason both may answer.
Euph. Think'st thou, then,

little

Of his exalted soul. With generous ardour
Still will he urge the great, the glorious plan,
And gain the ever honoured, 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.
Dion. By Heaven! this night Evander breathes
his last!

Euph. Better for him to sink at once to rest, Than linger thus beneath the gripe of famine, In a vile dungeon, scooped, with barbarous skill, Deep in the flinty rock; a monument

Of that fell malice, and that black suspicion,
That marked your father's reign; a dungeon drear
Prepared for innocence!-Vice lived secure,
It flourished, triumphed, grateful to his heart;
'Twas virtue only could give umbrage; then,
In that black period, to be great and good
Was a state crime; the powers of genius, then,
Were a constructive treason.

Dion. Ha! beware,

Nor with vile calumny provoke my rage.

Euph. Whate'er was laudable, whate'er was worthy,

Sunk under foul oppression; freeborn men
Were torn in private from their household gods,
Shut from the light of heaven in caverned cells,
Chained to the grunsel edge, and left to pine
In bitterness of soul; while, in the vaulted roof,
The tyrant sat, and, through a secret channel,
Collected every sound; heard each complaint
Of martyred virtue; kept a register
Of sighs and groans by cruelty extorted;
Noted the honest language of the heart;
Then on the victims wreaked his murderous rage,
For yielding to the feelings of their nature.

Dion. Obdurate woman! obstinate in ill! Here ends all parley. Now your father's doom Is fixed, irrevocably fixed.

Euph. Thy doom, perhaps,

May first be fixed: the doom that ever waits The fell oppressor, from a throne usurped Hurled headlong down. Think of thy father's fate

At Corinth, Dionysius!

Dion. Ha! this night

Evander dies; and thou, detested fair!

Thou shalt behold him, while inventive cruelty
Pursues his wearied life through every nerve.
I scorn all dull delay. This very night
Shall sate my great revenge.

Euph. This night, perhaps,

tion.

-In this

Euph. All hail, ye caves of horror !· gloom Divine content can dwell, the heartfelt tear, Which, as it falls, a father's trembling hand Will catch, and wipe the sorrows from my eye. Thou power supreme! whose all pervading mind Guides this great frame of things; who now behold'st me,

Who, in that cave of death, art full as perfect As in the gorgeous palace, now, while night Broods 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

Enter PHOCION, from the Tomb.
Pho. What voice is that?-Melanthon!
Euph. Ha! those sounds-

Speak of Evander! tell me that he lives,
Or lost Euphrasia dies.

Pho. Heart-swelling transport!
Art thou Euphrasia? Tis thy Phocion, love;
Thy husband comes.

Euph. Support me! reach thy hand! Pho. Once more I clasp her in this fond embrace!

Euph. What miracle has brought thee to me? Pho. Love

Inspired my heart, and guided all my ways. Euph. 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 grow wild at once!
Tell me his fate, and tell me all thy own.

Pho. Your boy is safe, Euphrasia; lives to
reign

In Sicily; Timoleon's generous care
Protects him in his camp; dispel thy fears;
The gods once more will give him to thy arms.

Euph. My father lives sepulchred, ere his time, Here in Eudocia's tomb; let me conduct thee. Pho. I came this moment thence.

Euph. And saw Evander ?
Pho. Alas! I found him not.
Euph. Not found him there?

And have they, then-have the fell murderers--
Oh!
[Faints away.
Pho. I've been too rash; revive, my love, re-
vive!

Thy Phocion calls; the gods will guard Evander, And save him, to reward thy matchless virtue.

Enter EVANDER and MELANTHON.

Evan. Lead me, Melanthon, guide my aged steps:

Where is he? Let me see him.

Pho. My Euphrasia !

Thy father lives!-Thou venerable man!
Behold-I cannot fly to thy embrace!

Euph. These agonies must end me; ah, my father!

Again I have him; gracious Powers! again
I clasp his hand, and bathe it with my tears!
Evan. Euphrasia! Phocion too! Yes, both are
here;

Oh! let me thus, thus strain you to my heart.

Pho. Protected by a daughter's tender care, By my Euphrasia saved! That sweet reflection Exalts the bliss to rapture.

Euph. Why, my father,

Why thus adventure forth? The strong alarm O'erwhelmed my spirits.

Evan. 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 Heaven for thee and thine. Melanthon there

Enter PHILOTAS.

Euph. Philotas! ha! what meansPhil. Inevitable ruin hovers o'er you! The tyrant's fury mounts into a blaze; Unsated yet with blood, he calls aloud

For thee, Evander; thee his rage hath ordered This moment to his presence.

His

Evan. Lead me to him:

presence

hath no terror for Evander.
Euph. Horror! it must not be.
Phil. No; never, never!

I'll perish rather. But the time demands
Our utmost vigour; with the lightning's speed
Decisive, rapid. With the scorpion stings
Of conscience lashed, despair and horror seize
him,

And guilt but serves to goad his tortured mind
To blacker crimes. His policy has granted
A day's suspense from arms; yet even now
His troops prepare, in the dead midnight hour,
With base surprise, to storm Timoleon's camp.
Evan. And doth he grant a false, insidious
truce,

To turn the hour of peace to blood and horror? Euph. I know the monster well: when specious seeming

Becalms his looks, the rankling heart within Teems with destruction. Like our mount Etna, When the deep snows invest his hoary head,

And a whole winter gathers on his brow, Looking tranquillity; even then, beneath, The fuelled entrails summon all their rage, Till the affrighted shepherd round him sees The sudden ru n, the volcano's burst, Mountains hurled up in air, and molten rocks, And all the land with desolation covered.

Melan. Now, Phocion, now, on thee our hope
depends.

Fly to Timoleon; I can grant a passport;
Rouse him to vengeance; on the tyrant turn
His own insidious arts, or all is lost.

Pho. Evander, thou, and thou, my best Eu
phrasia,

Both shall attend my flight.

Melan. It were in vain ;
The attempt would hazard all.
Euph. Together, here,

We will remain, safe in the cave of death;
And wait our freedom from thy conquering arm.
Evan. Oh! would the gods roll back the
stream of time,

And give this arm the sinew that it boasted
At Tauromenium, when its force resistless
Mowed down the ranks of war; I then might

guide

The battle's rage, and, ere Evander die,
Add still another laurel to my brow.

Euph. Enough of laurelled victory your sword Hath reaped in earlier days.

Evan. And shall my sword, When the great cause of liberty invites, Remain inactive, unperforming quite? Youth, second youth rekindles in my veins: Though worn with age, this arm will know its office; Will shew that victory has not forgot Acquaintance with this hand. And yet-O shame! It will not be the momentary blaze Sinks, and expires: I have survived it all; Survived my reign, my people, and myself. Euph. Fly, Phocion, fly; Melanthon will conduct thee.

Melan. And when the assault begins, my faithful cohorts

Shall form their ranks around this sacred dome Pho. And my poor captive friends, my brave

companions

Taken in battle, wilt thou guard their lives? Melan. Trust to my care: no danger shall assail them.

Pho. By Heaven, the glorious expectation swells
This panting bosom! Yes, Euphrasia, yes;
Awhile I leave you to the care of Heaven.
Fell Dionysius, tremble! ere the dawn

Timoleon thunders at your gates; the rage,
The pent-up rage of twenty thousand Greeks,
Shall burst at once, and the tumultuous roar
Alarm the astonished world. The brazen gates
Asunder shall be rent; the towers, the ramparts,
Shall yield to Grecian valour; death and rage
Through the wide city's round shall wade in gore,
And guilty men awake to gasp their last.
Melanthon, come.

Evan. Yet, ere thou go'st, young man, Attend my words: though guilt may oft provoke,