Yes, first she strikes; an injur'd daughter's arm Kneel to your rightful king: the blow for freedom thee! Eva. My child-my daughter-sav'd again by [He embraces her. A Flourish of Trumpets. Enter PHOCION, MELANTHON, PHILOTAS, &c. Phoc. Now let the monster yield.-My best Euphrasia ! Eup. My lord!-my Phocion!-welcome to my heart. Lo! there the wonders of Euphrasia's arm! Phoc. And is the proud one fall'n! The dawn shall A spectacle for public view. Euphrasia! Eva. To her direct thy looks; there fix thy praise, Phoc. It has. Eva. Where is Timoleon? Phoc. He guards the citadel; there gives his orders To calm the uproar, and recal from carnage His conqu❜ring troops. Eup. Oh! once again, my father, Thy sway shall bless the land. Not for himself Thee, good Melanthon, thee, thou gen'rous man, His brightest honours, shall be lavish'd on thee. Evander, too, will place you near his throne; And show mankind, ev'n on this shore of being, That virtue still shall meet its sure reward. Phil. I am rewarded: feelings, such as mine, Are worth all dignities; my heart repays me. Eva. Come, let us seek Timoleon; to his care I will commend ye both: for now, alas! Thrones and dominions now no more for me. To thee I give my crown: yes, thou, Euphrasia, Shalt reign in Sicily. And, oh! ye Pow'rs, In that bright eminence of care and peril, Watch over all her ways; conduct and guide The goodness you inspir'd; that she may prove If e'er distress like mine invade the land, A parent to her people; stretch the ray Of filial piety to times unborn, That men may hear her unexampled virtue, And learn to emulate "The Grecian Daughter." THE END. LONDON: PRINTED BY THOMAS DAVISON, WHITEFRIARS. THE RIVAL QUEENS; OR, THE DEATH OF ALEXANDER THE GREAT; A TRAGEDY, IN FIVE ACTS; BY NATHANIEL LEE. AS PERFORMED AT THE THEATRES ROYAL, DRURY LANE AND COVENT GARDEN PRINTED UNDER THE AUTHORITY OF THE MANAGERS FROM THE PROMPT BOOK. WITH REMARKS BY MRS. INCHBALD. LONDON: PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN PATERNOSTER-ROW. |