Once more approach and hear me; 'tis not now A time to waste in the vain war of words.

A crisis big with horror is at hand.

I meant to spare the stream of blood, that soon Shall deluge yonder plains. My fair proposals Thy haughty spirit has with scorn rejected.

And now, by Heav'n, here, in thy very sight, Evander breathes his last.

_Eup._ If yet there's wanting A crime to fill the measure of thy guilt, Add that black murder to the dreadful list;-- With that complete the horrors of thy reign.

_Dio._ Woman, beware: Philotas is at hand, And to our presence leads Evander. All Thy dark complottings, and thy treach'rous arts, Have prov'd abortive.

_Eup._ Ha!--What new event?

And is Philotas false?--Has he betray'd him?

[_Aside._

_Dio._ What, ho! Philotas!

_Enter PHILOTAS._

_Eup._ How my heart sinks within me!

_Dio._ Where's your pris'ner?

_Phil._ Evander is no more.

_Dio._ Ha!--Death has robb'd me Of half my great revenge.

_Phil._ Worn out with anguish, I saw life ebb apace. With studied art We gave each cordial drop, alas, in vain; He heav'd a sigh, invok'd his daughter's name, Smil'd, and expir'd.

_Dio._ Bring me his h.o.a.ry head!

_Phil._ You'll pardon, sir, my over-hasty zeal.

I gave the body to the foaming surge, Down the steep rock despis'd.

_Dio._ Now rave and shriek, And rend your scatter'd hair. No more Evander Shall sway Sicilia's sceptre.

Now then, thou feel'st my vengeance.

_Eup._ Glory in it; Exult and triumph. Thy worst shaft is sped.

Yet still th'unconquer'd mind with scorn can view thee; With the calm sunshine of the breast can see, Thy pow'r unequal to subdue the soul, Which virtue form'd, and which the G.o.ds protect.

_Dio._ Philotas, bear her hence; she shall not live; This moment, bear her hence!--you know the rest:-- Go, see our will obey'd; that done, with all A warrior's speed, attend me at the citadel;-- There meet the heroes, whom this night shall lead To freedom, victory,--to glorious havoc, And the destruction of the Grecian name. [_Exit._

_Eup._ Accept my thanks, Philotas;--generous man!

These tears attest th'emotions of my heart.

But, oh! should Greece defer----

_Phil._ Dispel thy fears; Phocion will bring relief; or should the tyrant a.s.sault their camp, he'll meet a marshall'd foe.

Let me conduct thee to the silent tomb.

_Eup._ Ah! there Evander, naked and disarm'd, Defenceless quite, may meet some ruffian stroke.

_Phil._ Lo here's a weapon; bear this dagger to him.

In the drear monument, should hostile steps Dare to approach him, they must enter singly; This guards the pa.s.sage; man by man they die.

There may'st thou dwell amidst the wild commotion.

_Eup._ Ye pitying G.o.ds, protect my father there!

[_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_The Citadel._

_Enter CALIPPUS, and several OFFICERS: DIONYSIUS meeting them._

_Dio._ Ye brave a.s.sociates, who so oft have shar'd Our toil and danger in the field of glory, My fellow warriors, what no G.o.d could promise, Fortune hath giv'n us. In his dark embrace Lo! sleep envelops the whole Grecian camp.

Against a foe, the outcasts of their country, Freebooters, roving in pursuit of prey, Success by war or covert stratagem Alike is glorious. Then, my gallant friends, What need of words? The gen'rous call of freedom, Your wives, your children, your invaded rights, All that can steel the patriot breast with valour, Expands and rouses in the swelling heart.

Follow th'impulsive ardour; follow me, Your king, your leader: in the friendly gloom Of night, a.s.sault their camp; your country's love, And fame eternal, shall attend the men Who march'd through blood and horror, to redeem, From the invader's pow'r, their native land.

_Cal._ Lead to the onset; Greece shall find we bear Hearts prodigal of blood, when honour calls, Resolv'd to conquer or to die in freedom.

_Dio._ Thus I've resolv'd: When the declining moon Hath veil'd her orb, our silent march begins.

The order thus:--Calippus thou lead forth Iberia's sons with the Numidian bands, And line the sh.o.r.e.--Perdiccas, be it thine To march thy cohorts to the mountain's foot, Where the wood skirts the valley; there make halt Till brave Amyntor stretch along the vale.

Ourself with the embodied cavalry Clad in their mail'd cuira.s.s, will circle round To where their camp extends its furthest line; Unnumber'd torches there shall blaze at once, The signal of the charge; then, oh, my friends!

On every side let the wild uproar loose, Bid ma.s.sacre and carnage stalk around, Unsparing, unrelenting; drench your swords In hostile blood, and riot in destruction.

Away, my friends!

Rouse all the war! fly to your sev'ral posts, And instant bring all Syracuse in arms!

[_Exeunt.--Warlike music._

Scene III.

_The Inside of the Temple._

_A Monument in the Middle._

_EUPHRASIA, ERIXENE, and FEMALE ATTENDANTS._

_Eup._ Which way, Erixene, which way, my virgins, Shall we direct our steps? What sacred altar Clasp on our knees?

_Erix._ Alas, the horrid tumult Spreads the destruction wide. On ev'ry side The victor's shouts, the groans of murder'd wretches, In wild confusion rise. Once more descend Eudocia's tomb; there thou may'st find a shelter.

_Eup._ Anon, Erixene, I mean to visit, Perhaps for the last time, a mother's urn.

This dagger there, this instrument of death, Should fortune prosper the fell tyrant's arms, This dagger then may free me from his pow'r, And that drear vault intomb us all in peace.

[_Puts up the Dagger._