_Erix._ Look down, propitious pow'rs! behold that virtue, And heal the pangs that desolate her soul.

_Enter PHILOTAS._

_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 sacrifice Th' impending wrath of ill-requited Heav'n.

Ill omens hover o'er us: at the altar The victim dropp'd, ere the divining seer Had gor'd his knife. The brazen statues tremble, And from the marble, drops of blood distil.

_Erix._ Now, ye just G.o.ds, if vengeance you prepare, Now find the guilty head.

_Enter EUPHRASIA, from the Tomb._

_Eup._ Virgins, I thank you--Oh! more lightly now My 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 G.o.d 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 fate To 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 indulge The purest ecstacy of soul. Come forth, Thou man of woe, thou man of every virtue.

_Enter EVANDER, from the Monument._

_Eva._ And does the grave thus cast me up again, With a fond father's love to view thee? Thus To 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 stream Deriv'st thy being; with unheard-of duty Thou hast repaid it to thy native source.

_Eup._ Sprung from Evander, if a little portion Of all his goodness dwell within my heart, Thou wilt not wonder.

_Eva._ Joy and wonder rise In 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 still To view thy goodness, and applaud thy deeds, Thou author of my life?--Did ever parent Thus 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? How Endure their barb'rous rage?

_Eva._ My foes but did To 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 G.o.ds 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 too Invites thee back to life.

_Eva._ And does he still Urge on the siege?

_Eup._ His active genius comes To scourge a guilty race. The Punic fleet, Half lost, is swallow'd by the roaring sea.

The shatter'd refuse seek the Lybian sh.o.r.e, To bear the news of their defeat to Carthage.

_Eva._ These are thy wonders, Heaven! Abroad thy spirit Moves 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!

_Enter PHILOTAS._

_Phil._ For thee, Euphrasia, Dionysius calls.

Some new suspicion goads him. At yon gate I stopp'd Calippus, as with eager haste He bent his way to seek thee.--Oh! my sovereign, My King, my injur'd master, will you pardon The wrongs I've done thee? [_Kneels to EVANDER._

_Eva._ Virtue such as thine, From the fierce trial of tyrannic pow'r, Shines forth with added l.u.s.tre.

_Phil._ Oh! forgive My ardent zeal? there is no time to waste.

You must withdraw; trust to your faithful friends.

Pa.s.s but another day, and Dionysius Falls from a throne usurp'd.

_Eva._ 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 show their rightful king.

_Eup._ Banish that thought; forbear; the rash attempt Were 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 dare To act like men;--their king, I gave myself To a whole people. I made no reserve; My life was theirs; each drop about my heart Pledg'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 ign.o.ble graves, Of such a race no matter who is king.

And yet I will not think it; no! my people Are 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, G.o.ds, 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 destruction To thee, to all, will follow:--hark! a sound Comes 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! Calippus Darts with the lightning's speed across the aisle.

_Eva._ Thou at the senate house convene my friends.

Melanthon, Dion, and their brave a.s.sociates, Will show, that liberty has leaders still.

Anon I'll meet them there: my child, farewell; Thou shalt direct me now.

[_Exit PHILOTAS.--EVANDER enters the Tomb.

Eup. Coming forward._] How my distracted heart throbs wild with fear!

What brings Calippus? wherefore? save me, Heaven!

_Enter CALIPPUS._