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diff --git a/30271-8.txt b/30271-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5674ed9 --- /dev/null +++ b/30271-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2809 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Grecian Daughter, by Arthur Murphy + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Grecian Daughter + +Author: Arthur Murphy + +Commentator: Elizabeth Inchbald + +Release Date: October 16, 2009 [EBook #30271] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GRECIAN DAUGHTER *** + + + + +Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Illustration: GRECIAN DAUGHTER + +EUPHRASIA.--BEHOLD ALL SICILY BEHOLD! +THE POINT GLOWS WITH THE TYRANTS BLOOD + +PAINTED BY B. COOK. PUBLISH'D BY LONGMAN AND CO. ENGRAV'D BY A. SMITH. A. +1806] + + + + +THE GRECIAN DAUGHTER; + +A TRAGEDY, +IN FIVE ACTS; + +BY ARTHUR MURPHY, ESQ. + +AS PERFORMED AT THE +THEATRE ROYAL, COVENT GARDEN. + + +PRINTED UNDER THE AUTHORITY OF THE MANAGERS +FROM THE PROMPT BOOK. + +WITH REMARKS +BY MRS. INCHBALD. + +LONDON: + +PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, AND ORME, +PATERNOSTER ROW. + +WILLIAM SAVAGE, PRINTER, +BEDFORD BURY, LONDON. + + + + +REMARKS. + + +This tragedy has been so rapturously applauded on the stage, and so +severely criticised in the closet, that it is a task of peculiar +difficulty to speak either of its beauties or its defects, with any +degree of certainty. To conciliate both the auditor and the reader, both +the favourable and the unfavourable critic, the "Grecian Daughter" +demands a set of Remarks for each side of the question--and the +good-natured side shall have precedence. + +This play had, on its first appearance, the most brilliant success, and +still holds a place in the list of dramas performed during every season. +There is a splendour of decoration, a glow of martial action, events of +such deep interest, and, above all, a moral of such excellent tendency, +which concludes the performance, that its attraction can readily be +accounted for, without the slightest imputation upon the judgment of the +public. + +Perhaps, of all the events recorded in history, that filial piety, on +which the fable of this play is founded, may be classed among the most +affecting--yet it was one the most hazardous for a dramatist to adopt; +for nothing less than complete skill could have given to this singular +occurrence effectual force, joined to becoming delicacy. In this arduous +effort Mr. Murphy has evinced the most exact judgment, and the nicest +execution. + +If this tragedy has not the smooth flowing verse of Otway, Thomson, or +Rowe, it possesses, in energy and fire, charms more theatrical; nor does +the heroic so wholly engross every scene, but that it yields, at times, +to melting pathos. + +Another praise due to this production is, that wonderful events take +place by the most natural agency. Incidents arise progressively from +each other, till the last great incident of all, fills every mind with +enthusiasm in the cause of virtue and justice--in the joy of an empire +made free by the overthrow of its tyrant. + + * * * * * + +It is hardly possible to read this tragedy of the "Grecian Daughter," +without laughing as well as crying. Some passages excite tears, whilst +certain high-sounding sentences, with meaning insignificant, are +irresistibly risible. + +The popular story, from which the fable of this tragedy is produced, and +the surprising event in the last scene--where a woman performs that +which a whole army has in vain attempted--together with the powerful +acting of Mrs. Barry in the part of Euphrasia, rendered this play +greatly attractive when it was first performed; and as those causes of +attraction still remain, or rather, an improvement is introduced by Mrs. +Siddons's appearance in the Grecian Daughter, the play is still of use +to the theatre. + +The men's characters have been all sacrificed by the author to the +valour of the woman--he has made his female do the deed of a man, and +his best man perform the act of a child. + +Though Evander ranks as the first male character in this play, no actor +likes to appear in the part. He would rather be inferior, and less +infirm. + +As Mr. Murphy had much theatrical experience as well as taste, it is +astonishing that the personage most talked of, most praised, and by far +the most perfect character in the whole drama, should never make his +appearance! + +Timoleon is a great warrior and a good man; and it seems wonderful how +the audience, on the first night of the play, would quit the theatre +without seeing him. Yet it was but modesty and respect in the author, +not to bring so magnanimous a hero on the scene, to speak bad poetry. + +The great tragic dramatist, Otway, wrote miserable comedies: Let it be +no disgrace to Murphy that he has written an indifferent tragedy. By the +merit of his comic scenes, his tragic ones are perhaps judged, and in +the comparison lose half their value. + + + + +DRAMATIS PERSONĘ. + + +DIONYSIUS _Mr. Cory._ +EVANDER _Mr. Kemble._ +PHILOTAS _Mr. C. Kemble._ +MELANTHON _Mr. Hull._ +PHOCION _Mr. Brunton._ +ARCAS _Mr. Davenport._ +GREEK HERALD _Mr. Creswell._ +CALIPPUS _Mr. Klanert._ +GREEK SOLDIER _Mr. Field._ +OFFICER + +EUPHRASIA _Mrs. Siddons._ +ERIXENE _Mrs. Humphries._ + +_SCENE,--Syracuse._ + + + + +THE GRECIAN DAUGHTER. + +ACT THE FIRST. + +SCENE I. + + +_Enter MELANTHON and PHILOTAS._ + +_Mel._ Yet, yet a moment; hear, Philotas, hear me. + +_Phil._ No more; it must not be. + +_Mel._ Obdurate man; +Thus wilt thou spurn me, when a king distress'd, +A good, a virtuous, venerable king, +The father of his people, from a throne +Which long with ev'ry virtue he adorn'd, +Torn by a ruffian, by a tyrant's hand, +Groans in captivity? In his own palace +Lives a sequester'd prisoner? Oh! Philotas, +If thou hast not renounc'd humanity; +Let me behold my sovereign; once again +Admit me to his presence; let me see +My royal master. + +_Phil._ Urge thy suit no further; +Thy words are fruitless; Dionysius' orders +Forbid access; he is our sov'reign now; +'Tis his to give the law, mine to obey. + +_Mel._ Thou canst not mean it: his to give the law! +Detested spoiler!--his! a vile usurper! +Have we forgot the elder Dionysius, +Surnam'd the Tyrant? To Sicilia's throne +The monster waded through whole seas of blood. +Sore groan'd the land beneath his iron rod, +Till rous'd at length Evander came from Greece, +Like Freedom's Genius came, and sent the tyrant, +Stript of the crown, and to his humble rank +Once more reduc'd, to roam, for vile subsistence, +A wandering sophist through the realms of Greece. + +_Phil._ Whate'er his right, to him in Syracuse +All bend the knee; his the supreme dominion, +And death and torment wait his sovereign nod. + +_Mel._ But soon that pow'r shall cease: behold his walls +Now close encircled by the Grecian bands; +Timoleon leads them on; indignant Corinth +Sends her avenger forth, array'd in terror, +To hurl ambition from a throne usurp'd, +And bid all Sicily resume her rights. + +_Phil._ Thou wert a statesman once, Melanthon; now, +Grown dim with age, thy eye pervades no more +The deep-laid schemes which Dionysius plans. +Know then, a fleet from Carthage even now +Stems the rough billow; and, ere yonder sun, +That now declining seeks the western wave, +Shall to the shades of night resign the world, +Thou'lt see the Punic sails in yonder bay, +Whose waters wash the walls of Syracuse. + +_Mel._ Art thou a stranger to Timoleon's name? +Intent to plan, and circumspect to see +All possible events, he rushes on +Resistless in his course! Your boasted master +Scarce stands at bay; each hour the strong blockade +Hems him in closer, and ere long thou'lt view +Oppression's iron rod to fragments shiver'd! +The good Evander then---- + +_Phil._ Alas, Evander +Will ne'er behold the golden time you look for! + +_Mel._ How! not behold it! Say, Philotas, speak; +Has the fell tyrant,--have his felon murderers---- + +_Phil._ As yet, my friend, Evander lives. + +_Mel._ And yet +Thy dark half-hinted purpose--lead me to him; +If thou hast murder'd him---- + +_Phil._ By Heav'n, he lives. + +_Mel._ Then bless me with one tender interview. +Thrice has the sun gone down, since last, these eyes +Have seen the good old king; say, why is this? +Wherefore debarr'd his presence? Thee, Philotas, +The troops obey, that guard the royal pris'ner; +Each avenue to thee is open; thou +Canst grant admittance; let me, let me see him. + +_Phil._ Entreat no more; the soul of Dionysius +Is ever wakeful; rent with all the pangs +That wait on conscious guilt. + +_Mel._ But when dun night---- + +_Phil._ Alas! it cannot be: but mark my words. +Let Greece urge on her general assault. +Despatch some friend, who may o'erleap the walls, +And tell Timoleon, the good old Evander +Has liv'd three days, by Dionysius' order, +Lock'd up from ev'ry sustenance of nature, +And life, now wearied out, almost expires. + +_Mel._ If any spark of virtue dwell within thee, +Lead me, Philotas, lead me to his prison. + +_Phil._ The tyrant's jealous care hath mov'd him thence. + +_Mel._ Ha! mov'd him, say'st thou? + +_Phil._ At the midnight hour, +Silent convey'd him up the steep ascent, +To where the elder Dionysius form'd, +On the sharp summit of the pointed rock, +Which overhangs the deep, a dungeon drear: +Cell within cell, a labyrinth of horror, +Deep cavern'd in the cliff, where many a wretch, +Unseen by mortal eye, has groan'd in anguish, +And died obscure, unpitied, and unknown. + +_Mel._ Clandestine murderer! Yes, there's the scene +Of horrid massacre. Full oft I've walk'd, +When all things lay in sleep and darkness hush'd. +Yes, oft I've walk'd the lonely sullen beach, +And heard the mournful sound of many a corse +Plung'd from the rock into the wave beneath, +That murmurs on the shore. And means he thus +To end a monarch's life? Oh! grant my pray'r; +My timely succour may protect his days; +The guard is yours---- + +_Phil._ Forbear; thou plead'st in vain; +And though I feel soft pity throbbing here; +Though each emotion prompts the gen'rous deed, +I must not yield; it were assur'd destruction! +Farewell, despatch a message to the Greeks; +I'll to my station; now thou know'st the worst. + +[_Exit._ + +_Mel._ Oh, lost Evander! Lost Euphrasia too! +How will her gentle nature bear the shock +Of a dear father, thus in ling'ring pangs +A prey to famine, like the veriest wretch +Whom the hard hand of misery hath grip'd! +In vain she'll rave, with impotence of sorrow; +Perhaps, provoke her fate: Greece arms in vain, +All's lost; Evander dies! + +_Enter CALIPPUS._ + +_Cal._ Where is the King? +Our troops, that sallied to attack the foe, +Retire disordered; to the eastern gate +The Greeks pursue: Timoleon rides in blood! +Arm, arm, and meet their fury! + +_Mel._ To the citadel +Direct thy footsteps; Dionysius there +Marshals a chosen band. + +_Cal._ Do thou call forth +Thy hardy veterans; haste, or all is lost! [_Exit._ + +[_Warlike Music._ + +_Mel._ Now, ye just gods, now look propitious down; +Now give the Grecian sabre tenfold edge, +And save a virtuous king! [_Warlike Music._ + +_Enter EUPHRASIA._ + +_Eup._ War on, ye heroes, +Ye great assertors of a monarch's cause! +Let the wild tempest rage. Melanthon, ha! +Did'st thou not hear the vast tremendous roar? +Down tumbling from its base the eastern tow'r, +Burst on the tyrant's ranks, and on the plain +Lies an extended ruin. + +_Mel._ Still new horrors +Increase each hour, and gather round our heads. + +_Eup._ The glorious tumult lifts my tow'ring soul. +Once more, Melanthon, once again, my father +Shall mount Sicilia's throne. + +_Mel._ Alas! that hour +Would come with joy to ev'ry honest heart, +Would shed divinest blessings from its wing; +But no such hour in all the round of time, +I fear, the fates averse will e'er lead on. + +_Eup._ And still, Melanthon, still does pale despair +Depress thy spirit? Lo! Timoleon comes +Arm'd with the pow'r of Greece; the brave, the just, +God-like Timoleon! ardent to redress, +He guides the war, and gains upon his prey. +A little interval shall set the victor +Within our gates triumphant. + +_Mel._ Still my fears +Forbode for thee. 'Would thou hadst left this place, +When hence your husband, the brave Phocion, fled, +Fled with your infant son! + +_Eup._ In duty fixed, +Here I remain'd, while my brave, gen'rous Phocion, +Fled with my child, and from his mother's arms +Bore my sweet little one. Full well thou know'st +The pangs I suffer'd in that trying moment. +Did I not weep? Did I not rave and shriek, +And by the roots tear my dishevell'd hair? +Did I not follow to the sea-beat shore, +Resolv'd with him, and with my blooming boy, +To trust the winds and waves? + +_Mel._ Deem not, Euphrasia, +I e'er can doubt thy constancy and love. + +_Eup._ Melanthon, how I loved, the gods, who saw +Each secret image that my fancy form'd, +The gods can witness how I lov'd my Phocion, +And yet I went not with him. Could I do it? +Could I desert my father? Could I leave +The venerable man, who gave me being, +A victim here in Syracuse, nor stay +To watch his fate, to visit his affliction, +To cheer his prison hours, and with the tear +Of filial virtue bid ev'n bondage smile? + +_Mel._ The pious act, whate'er the fates intend, +Shall merit heartfelt praise. + +_Eup._ Yes, Phocion, go, +Go with my child, torn from this matron breast, +This breast that still should yield its nurture to him, +Fly with my infant to some happier shore, +If he be safe, Euphrasia dies content. +Till that sad close of all, the task be mine +To tend a father with delighted care, +To smooth the pillow of declining age, +See him sink gradual into mere decay, +On the last verge of life watch ev'ry look, +Explore each fond unutterable wish, +Catch his last breath, and close his eyes in peace. + +_Mel._ I would not add to my afflictions; yet +My heart misgives; Evander's fatal period---- + +_Eup._ Still is far off; the gods have sent relief, +And once again I shall behold him king. + +_Mel._ Alas! those glitt'ring hopes but lend a ray +To gild the clouds, that hover o'er your head, +Soon to rain sorrow down, and plunge you deeper +In black despair. + +_Eup._ The spirit-stirring virtue, +That glows within me, ne'er shall know despair. +No, I will trust the gods. Desponding man! +Hast thou not heard with what resistless ardour +Timoleon drives the tumult of the war? +Hast thou not heard him thund'ring at our gates? +The tyrant's pent up in his last retreat; +Anon thou'lt see his battlements in dust, +His walls, his ramparts, and his tow'rs in ruin; +Destruction pouring in on ev'ry side, +Pride and oppression at their utmost need, +And nought to save him in his hopeless hour. + +[_A flourish of Trumpets._ + +_Mel._ Ha! the fell tyrant comes.--Beguile his rage, +And o'er your sorrows cast a dawn of gladness. + +_Enter DIONYSIUS, CALIPPUS, OFFICERS, &c._ + +_Dio._ The vain presumptuous Greek! His hopes of conquest, +Like a gay dream, are vanish'd into air. +Proudly elate, and flush'd with easy triumph +O'er vulgar warriors, to the gates of Syracuse +He urg'd the war, till Dionysius' arm +Let slaughter loose, and taught his dastard train +To seek their safety by inglorious flight. + +_Eup._ O, Dionysius, if distracting fears +Alarm this throbbing bosom, you will pardon +A frail and tender sex. Should ruthless war +Roam through our streets, and riot here in blood, +Where shall the lost Euphrasia find a shelter? +In vain she'll kneel, and clasp the sacred altar. +O let me then, in mercy let me seek +The gloomy mansion, where my father dwells; +I die content, if in his arms I perish. + +_Dio._ Thou lovely trembler, hush thy fears to rest. +The Greek recoils; like the impetuous surge +That dashes on the rock, there breaks, and foams, +And backward rolls into the sea again. +All shall be well in Syracuse: a fleet +Appears in view, and brings the chosen sons +Of Carthage. From the hill that fronts the main, +I saw their canvass swelling with the wind, +While on the purple wave the western sun +Glanc'd the remains of day. + +_Eup._ Yet till the fury +Of war subside, the wild, the horrid interval +In safety let me sooth to dear delight +In a lov'd father's presence: from his sight, +For three long days, with specious feign'd excuse +Your guards debarr'd me. Oh! while yet he lives, +Indulge a daughter's love; worn out with age +Soon must he seal his eyes in endless night, +And with his converse charm my ear no more. + +_Dio._ Why thus anticipate misfortune? Still +Evander mocks the injuries of time. +Calippus, thou survey the city round; +Station the centinels, that no surprise +Invade the unguarded works, while drowsy night +Weighs down the soldier's eye. Afflicted fair, +Thy couch invites thee. When the tumult's o'er, +Thou'lt see Evander with redoubled joy. +Though now unequal to the cares of empire +His age sequester him, yet honours high +Shall gild the ev'ning of his various day. + +_Eup._ For this benignity accept my thanks. +They gush in tears, and my heart pours its tribute. + +_Dio._ Perdiccas, ere the morn's revolving light +Unveil the face of things, do thou despatch +A well-oar'd galley to Hamilcar's fleet; +At the north point of yonder promontory, +Let some selected officer instruct him +To moor his ships, and issue on the land. +Then may Timoleon tremble: vengeance then +Shall overwhelm his camp, pursue his bands, +With fatal havoc, to the ocean's margin, +And cast their limbs to glut the vulture's famine, +In mingled heaps upon the naked shore. + +[_Exit DIONYSIUS._ + +_Eup._ What do I hear? Melanthon, can it be? +If Carthage comes, if her perfidious sons +List in his cause, the dawn of freedom's gone. + +_Mel._ Woe, bitt'rest woe, impends; thou wouldst not think---- + +_Eup._ How? speak! unfold. + +_Mel._ My tongue denies its office. + +_Eup._ How is my father? Say, Melanthon---- + +_Mel._ He, +I fear to shock thee with the tale of horror! +Perhaps he dies this moment.--Since Timoleon +First form'd his lines round this beleagur'd city, +No nutriment has touch'd Evander's lips. +In the deep caverns of the rock imprison'd +He pines in bitterest want. + +_Eup._ Well, my heart, +Well do your vital drops forget to flow. + +_Mel._ Despair, alas! is all the sad resource +Our fate allows us now. + +_Eup._ Yet, why despair? +Is that the tribute to a father due? +Blood is his due, Melanthon; yes, the blood, +The vile, black blood, that fills the tyrant's veins, +Would graceful look upon my dagger's point. +Come, vengeance, come, shake off the feeble sex, +Sinew my arm, and guide it to his heart. +And thou, O filial piety, that rul'st +My woman's breast, turn to vindictive rage; +Assume the port of justice; show mankind +Tyrannic guilt hath never dar'd in Syracuse, +Beyond the reach of virtue. + +_Mel._ Moderate your zeal, +Nor let him hear these transports of the soul, +These wild upbraidings. + +_Eup._ Shall Euphrasia's voice +Be hush'd to silence, when a father dies? +Shall not the monster hear his deeds accurst? +Shall he not tremble, when a daughter comes, +Wild with her griefs, and terible with wrongs; +Fierce in despair, all nature in her cause +Alarm'd and rous'd with horror? +Melanthon come; my wrongs will lend me force; +The weakness of my sex is gone; this arm +Feels tenfold strength; this arm shall do a deed +For Heav'n and earth, for men and gods to wonder at! +This arm shall vindicate a father's cause. + + + + +ACT THE SECOND. + +SCENE I. + + +_A wild romantic Scene amidst overhanging Rocks; a Cavern on one side._ + +_ARCAS, with a Spear in his Hand._ + +_Arcas._ The gloom of night sits heavy on the world; +And o'er the solemn scene such stillness reigns, +As 'twere a pause of nature; on the beach +No murmuring billow breaks; the Grecian tents +Lie sunk in sleep; no gleaming fires are seen; +All Syracuse is hush'd; no stir abroad, +Save ever and anon the dashing oar, +That beats the sullen wave. And hark!--Was that +The groan of anguish from Evander's cell, +Piercing the midnight gloom?--It is the sound +Of bustling prows, that cleave the briny deep. +Perhaps at this dead hour Hamilcar's fleet +Rides in the bay. + +_Enter PHILOTAS, from the Cavern._ + +_Phil._ What, ho! brave Arcas! ho! + +_Arcas._ Why thus desert thy couch? + +_Phil._ Methought the sound +Of distant uproar chas'd affrighted sleep. + +_Arcas._ At intervals the oar's resounding stroke +Comes echoing from the main. Save that report, +A death-like silence through the wide expanse +Broods o'er the dreary coast. + +_Phil._ Do thou retire, +And seek repose; the duty of thy watch +Is now perform'd; I take thy post. + +_Arcas._ How fares +Your royal pris'ner? + +_Phil._ Arcas, shall I own +A secret weakness? My heart inward melts +To see that suffering virtue. On the earth, +The cold, damp earth, the royal victim lies; +And while pale famine drinks his vital spirit, +He welcomes death, and smiles himself to rest. +Oh! 'would I could relieve him! + +_Arcas._ May no alarm disturb thee. [_Exit._ + +_Phil._ Some dread event is lab'ring into birth. +At close of day the sullen sky held forth +Unerring signals. With disastrous glare, +The moon's full orb rose crimson'd o'er with blood; +And lo! athwart the gloom a falling star +Trails a long tract of fire!--What daring step +Sounds on the flinty rock? Stand there; what, ho! +Speak, ere thou dar'st advance. Unfold thy purpose: +Who and what art thou? + +_Eup._ [_Within._] Mine no hostile step; +I bring no value to alarm thy fears: +It is a friend approaches. + +_Phil._ Ha! what mean +Those plaintive notes? + +_Eup._ [_Within._] Here is no ambush'd Greek, +No warrior to surprise thee on the watch. +An humble suppliant comes--Alas, my strength +Exhausted quite forsakes this weary frame. + +_Phil._ What voice thus piercing thro' the gloom of night-- +What art thou? what thy errand? quickly say, +Wherefore alarm'st thou thus our peaceful watch? + +_Eup._ [_Within._] Let no mistrust affright thee-- + +_Enter EUPHRASIA._ + + Lo! a wretch, +The veriest wretch that ever groan'd in anguish, +Comes here to grovel on the earth before thee, +To tell her sad, sad tale, implore thy aid, +For sure the pow'r is thine, thou canst relieve +My bleeding heart, and soften all my woes. + +_Phil._ Euphrasia!---- +Why, princess, thus anticipate the dawn? +Still sleep and silence wrap the weary world; +The stars in mid career usurp the pole; +The Grecian bands, the winds, the waves are hush'd; +All things are mute around us; all but you +Rest in oblivious slumber from their cares. + +_Eup._ Yes; all, all rest: the very murd'rer sleeps; +Guilt is at rest: I only wake to misery. + +_Phil._ How didst thou gain the summit of the rock? + +_Eup._ Give me my father; here you hold him fetter'd; +Oh! give him to me----If ever +The touch of nature throbb'd within your breast, +Admit me to Evander. In these caves +I know he pines in want; let me convey +Some charitable succour to a father. + +_Phil._ Alas, Euphrasia! 'would I dare comply! + +_Eup._ It will be virtue in thee. Thou, like me, +Wert born in Greece:--Oh! by our common parent-- +Nay, stay; thou shalt not fly; Philotas, stay;-- +You have a father too; think, were his lot +Hard as Evander's; if by felon hands +Chain'd to the earth, with slow-consuming pangs +He felt sharp want, and with an asking eye +Implor'd relief, yet cruel men deny'd it, +Wouldst thou not burst thro' adamantine gates, +Thro' walls and rocks, to save him? Think, Philotas, +Of thy own aged sire, and pity mine. +Think of the agonies a daughter feels, +When thus a parent wants the common food, +The bounteous hand of nature meant for all. + +_Phil._ 'Twere best withdraw thee, princess; thy assistance +Evander wants not; it is fruitless all; +Thy tears, thy wild entreaties, are in vain. + +_Eup._ Ha!--thou hast murder'd him; he is no more; +I understand thee;--butchers, you have shed +The precious drops of life. + +_Phil._ Alas! this frantic grief can nought avail. +Retire and seek the couch of balmy sleep, +In this dead hour, this season of repose. + +_Eup._ And dost thou then, inhuman as thou art! +Advise a wretch like me to know repose? +This is my last abode:--these caves, these rocks, +Shall ring for ever with Euphrasia's wrongs. +Here will I dwell, and rave, and shriek, and give +These scatter'd locks to all the passing winds; +Call on Evander lost;-- +And cruel gods, and cruel stars invoking, +Stand on the cliff in madness and despair. + +_Phil._ By Heav'n, +My heart in pity bleeds. +No other fear assails this warlike breast. +I pity your misfortunes; yes, by Heav'n, +My heart bleeds for you.--Gods! you've touch'd my soul! +The gen'rous impulse is not giv'n in vain. +I feel thee, Nature, and I dare obey. +Oh! thou hast conquer'd.--Go, Euphrasia, go, +Behold thy father. + +_Eup._ Raise me, raise me up; +I'll bathe thy hand with tears, thou gen'rous man! + +_Phil._ Yet, mark my words; if aught of nourishment +Thou wouldst convey, my partners of the watch +Will ne'er consent. + +_Eup._ I will observe your orders: +On any terms, oh! let me, let me see him. + +_Phil._ Yon lamp will guide thee thro' the cavern'd way. + +_Eup._ My heart runs o'er in thanks; the pious act +Timoleon shall reward; the bounteous gods, +And thy own virtue shall reward the deed. + +[_Goes into the Cave._ + +_Phil._ Prevailing, powerful virtue!--Thou subdu'st +The stubborn heart, and mould'st it to thy purpose. +'Would I could save them!--But tho' not for me +The glorious pow'r to shelter innocence, +Yet for a moment to assuage its woes, +Is the best sympathy, the purest joy +Nature intended for the heart of man, +When thus she gave the social gen'rous tear. [_Exit._ + + +SCENE II. + + +_The Inside of the Cavern._ + +_Enter ARCAS and EUPHRASIA._ + +_Arcas._ No; on my life, I dare not. + +_Eup._ But a small, +A wretched pittance; one poor cordial drop +To renovate exhausted drooping age, +I ask no more. + +_Arcas._ Not the smallest store +Of scanty nourishment must pass these walls. +Our lives were forfeit else: a moment's parley +Is all I grant; in yonder cave he lies. + +_Eva._ [_Within the Cell._] Oh, struggling nature! let thy conflict end. +Oh! give me, give me rest. + +_Eup._ My father's voice! +It pierces here! it cleaves my very heart. +I shall expire, and never see him more. + +_Arcas._ Repose thee, princess, here, [_Draws a Couch_] here rest thy + limbs, +Till the returning blood shall lend thee firmness. + +_Eup._ The caves, the rocks, re-echo to his groans! +And is there no relief? + +_Arcas._ All I can grant, +You shall command. I will unbar the dungeon, +Unloose the chain that binds him to the rock, +And leave your interview without restraint. + +[_Opens a Cell in the back Scene._ + +_Eup._ Hold, hold my heart! Oh! how shall I sustain +The agonizing scene? [_Rises._] I must behold him; +Nature, that drives me on, will lend me force. +Is that my father? + +_Arcas._ Take your last farewell. +His vigour seems not yet exhausted quite. +You must be brief, or ruin will ensue. [_Exit._ + +_Eva._ [_Raising himself._] Oh! when shall I get free? +--These ling'ring pangs-- + +_Eup._ Behold, ye pow'rs, that spectacle of woe! + +_Eva._ Despatch me, pitying gods, and save my child! +I burn, I burn; alas! no place of rest: + +[_Rises and comes out._ + +A little air; once more a breath of air; +Alas! I faint; I die. + +_Eup._ Heart-piercing sight! +Let me support you, sir. + +_Eva._ Oh! lend your arm. +Whoe'er thou art, I thank thee: that kind breeze +Comes gently o'er my senses--lead me forward: +And is there left one charitable hand +To reach its succour to a wretch like me? + +_Eup._ Well may'st thou ask it. O! my breaking heart! +The hand of death is on him. + +_Eva._ Still a little, +A little onward to the air conduct me; +'Tis well;--I thank thee; thou art kind and good, +And much I wonder at this gen'rous pity. + +_Eup._ Dost thou not know me, sir? + +_Eva._ Methinks I know +That voice: art thou--alas! my eyes are dim! +Each object swims before me--No, in truth +I do not know thee. + +_Eup._ Not your own Euphrasia? + +_Eva._ Art thou my daughter? + +_Eup._ Oh! my honour'd sire! + +_Eva._ My daughter, my Euphrasia? come to close +A father's eyes! Giv'n to my last embrace! +Gods! do I hold her once again? Your mercies +Are without number. [_Falls on the Couch._ +This excess of bliss +O'erpow'rs; it kills; Euphrasia--could I hope it? +I die content--Art thou indeed my daughter? +Thou art; my hand is moisten'd with thy tears: +I pray you do not weep--thou art my child: +I thank you, gods! in my last dying moments +You have not left me--I would pour my praise; +But oh! your goodness overcomes me quite! +You read my heart; you see what passes there. + +_Eup._ Alas, he faints! the gushing tide of transport +Bears down each feeble sense: restore him, Heaven! + +_Eva._ All, my Euphrasia, all will soon be well. +Pass but a moment, and this busy globe, +Its thrones, its empires, and its bustling millions, +Will seem a speck in the great void of space. +Yet, while I stay, thou darling of my age!-- +Nay, dry those tears. + +_Eup._ I will, my father. + +_Eva._ Where,-- +I fear to ask it, where is virtuous Phocion? + +_Eup._ Fled from the tyrant's pow'r. + +_Eva._ And left thee here +Expos'd and helpless? + +_Eup._ He is all truth and honour: +He fled to save my child. + +_Eva._ My young Evander! +Your boy is safe, Euphrasia?--Oh! my heart! +Alas! quite gone; worn out with misery; +Oh! weak, decay'd old man! + +_Eup._ Inhuman wretches! +Will none relieve his want? A drop of water +Might save his life; and even that's deny'd him. + +_Eva._ These strong emotions--Oh! that eager air-- +It is too much--assist me; bear me hence; +And lay me down in peace. + +_Eup._ His eyes are fix'd! +And those pale, quiv'ring lips! He clasps my hand: +What, no assistance! Monsters, will you thus +Let him expire in these weak, feeble arms? + +_Enter PHILOTAS._ + +_Phil._ Those wild, those piercing shrieks will give th'alarm. + +_Eup._ Support him; bear him hence; 'tis all I ask. + +_Evan._ [_As he is carried off._] O Death! where art thou? Death, thou + dread of guilt, +Thou wish of innocence, affliction's friend, +Tir'd nature calls thee; come, in mercy come, +And lay me pillow'd in eternal rest. +My child--where art thou? give me; reach thy hand, +Why dost thou weep?--My eyes are dry--Alas! +Quite parch'd, my lips--quite parch'd, they cleave together. +[_Exeunt._ + +_Enter ARCAS._ + +_Arcas._ The grey of morn breaks thro' yon eastern clouds. +'Twere time this interview should end: the hour +Now warns Euphrasia hence: what man could dare, +I have indulg'd--Philotas!--ha! the cell +Left void!--Evander gone!--What may this mean? +Philotas, speak. + +_Enter PHILOTAS._ + +_Phil._ Oh! vile, detested lot, +Here to obey the savage tyrant's will, +And murder virtue that can thus behold +Its executioner, and smile upon him. +That piteous sight! + +_Arcas._ She must withdraw, Philotas; +Delay undoes us both. The restless main +Glows with the blush of day. +The time requires +Without or further pause, or vain excuse, +That she depart this moment. + +_Phil._ Arcas, yes; +My voice shall warn her of th' approaching danger. [_Exit._ + +_Arcas._ 'Would she had ne'er adventur'd to our guard! +I dread th' event; and hark!--the wind conveys +In clearer sound the uproar of the main. +The fates prepare new havoc; on th' event +Depends the fate of empire. Wherefore thus +Delays Euphrasia? Ha! what means, Philotas, +That sudden haste, that pale, disorder'd look? + +_Enter PHILOTAS._ + +_Phil._ O! I can hold no more; at such a sight +Ev'n the hard heart of tyranny would melt +To infant softness. Arcas, go, behold +The pious fraud of charity and love; +Behold that unexampled goodness; see +Th' expedient sharp necessity has taught her; +Thy heart will burn, will melt, will yearn to view +A child like her. + +_Arcas._ Ha!--say what mystery +Wakes these emotions? + +_Phil._ Wonder-working virtue! +The father foster'd at his daughter's breast! +O! filial piety!--The milk design'd +For her own offspring, on the parent's lip +Allays the parching fever. + +_Arcas._ That device +Has she then form'd, eluding all our care, +To minister relief? + +_Phil._ On the bare earth +Evander lies; and as his languid pow'rs +Imbibe with eager thirst the kind refreshment, +And his looks speak unutterable thanks, +Euphrasia views him with the tend'rest glance, +Ev'n as a mother doating on her child; +And, ever and anon, amidst the smiles +Of pure delight, of exquisite sensation, +A silent tear steals down; the tear of virtue, +That sweetens grief to rapture. All her laws +Inverted quite, great nature triumphs still. + +_Arcas._ The tale unmans my soul. + +_Phil._ Ye tyrants, hear it, +And learn, that, while your cruelty prepares +Unheard-of torture, virtue can keep pace +With your worst efforts, and can try new modes +To bid men grow enamour'd of her charms. + +_Arcas._ Philotas, for Euphrasia, in her cause, +I now can hazard all. Let us preserve +Her father for her. + +_Phil._ Oh! her lovely daring +Transcends all praise. By Heav'n, he shall not die. + +_Arcas._ And yet we must be wary; I'll go forth, +And first explore each avenue around, +Lest the fix'd sentinel obstruct your purpose. + +[_Exit ARCAS._ + +_Phil._ I thank thee, Arcas; we will act like men +Who feel for other's woes--She leads him forth, +And tremblingly supports his drooping age. + +[_Goes to assist him._ + +_Enter EUPHRASIA and EVANDER._ + +_Eva._ Euphrasia, oh! my child! returning life +Glows here about my heart. Conduct me forward; +At the last gasp preserved! Ha! dawning light! +Let me behold; in faith I see thee now; +I do indeed: the father sees his child. + +_Eup._ I have reliev'd him--Oh! the joy's too great; +'Tis speechless rapture! + +_Eva._ Blessings, blessings on thee! + +_Eup._ My father still shall live. Alas! Philotas, +Could I abandon that white hoary head, +That venerable form? Abandon him +To perish here in misery and famine? + +_Phil._ Thy tears, thou miracle of goodness. +Have triumph'd o'er me. +Take him, take your father; +Convey him hence; I do release him to you. + +_Eva._ What said Philotas! Do I fondly dream? +Indeed my senses are imperfect; yet +Methought I heard him! did he say release me? + +_Phil._ Thou art my king, and now no more my pris'ner; +Go with your daughter, with that wond'rous pattern +Of filial piety to after times. +Yes, princess, lead him forth; I'll point the path, +Whose soft declivity will guide your steps +To the deep vale, which these o'erhanging rocks +Encompass round. You may convey him thence +To some safe shelter. Yet a moment's pause; +I must conceal your flight from ev'ry eye. +Yes, I will save 'em, or perish in their cause. + +[_Exit PHILOTAS._ + +_Eva._ Whither, oh! whither shall Evander go? +I'm at the goal of life; if in the race +Honour has follow'd with no ling'ring step, +But there sits smiling with her laurel wreath, +To crown my brow, there would I fain make halt, +And not inglorious lay me down to rest. + +_Eup._ And will you then refuse, when thus the gods +Afford a refuge to thee? + +_Eva._ Oh! my child, +There is no refuge for me. + +_Eup._ Pardon, sir: +Euphrasia's care has form'd a safe retreat; +There may'st thou dwell; it will not long be wanted. +Soon shall Timoleon with resistless force, +Burst yon devoted walls. + +_Eva._ Timoleon! + +_Eup._ Yes. +The brave Timoleon, with the pow'r of Greece; +Another day shall make this city his. + +_Eva._ Timoleon come to vindicate my rights! +Oh! thou shalt reign in Sicily! my child +Shall grace her father's throne. Indulgent Heaven! +Pour down your blessings on this best of daughters; +To her and Phocion give Evander's crown; +Let them, oh! let them both in virtue wear it, +And in due time transmit it to their boy! + +_Enter PHILOTAS._ + +_Phil._ All things are apt; the drowsy sentinel +Lies hush'd in sleep; I'll marshall thee the way +Down the steep rock. + +_Eup._ Oh! let us quickly hence. + +_Eva._ The blood but loiters in these frozen veins: +Do you, whose youthful spirit glows with life, +Do you go forth, and leave this mould'ring corpse. +To me had Heav'n decreed a longer date, +It ne'er had suffer'd a fell monster's reign, +Nor let me see the carnage of my people. +Farewell, Euphrasia; in one lov'd embrace +To these remains pay the last obsequies, +And leave me here to sink to silent dust. + +_Eup._ And will you, then, on self destruction bent, +Reject my prayer, nor trust your fate with me. + +_Eva._ Trust thee, Euphrasia? Trust in thee, my child? +Though life's a burden I could well lay down, +Yet I will prize it, since bestow'd by thee. +Oh! thou art good; thy virtue soars a flight +For the wide world to wonder at; in thee, +Hear it all nature, future ages hear it, +The father finds a parent in his child. [_Exeunt._ + + + + +ACT THE THIRD. + +SCENE I. + + +_A Rampart near the Harbour._ + +_Enter DIONYSIUS._ + +_Dio._ Base deserters! +Curse on their Punic faith! did they once dare +To grapple with the Greek? Ere yet the main +Was 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! + +_Enter CALIPPUS._ + +_Cal._ My liege, Timoleon, where the harbour opens, +Has storm'd the forts, and even now his fleet +Pursues 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 street +Despair and terror fly. A panic spreads +From man to man, and superstition sees +Jove 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 bear +The image of their gods. +The solemn sacrifice, the virgin throng, +Will gain the popular belief, and kindle +In the fierce soldiery religious rage. +Away, my friends, prepare the sacred rites. + +[_Exeunt CALIPPUS, &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 crown +No more shall deck his brow; and if the sand +Still loiter in the glass, thy hand, my friend, +May shake it thence. + +_Phil._ It shall, dread sir; that task +Leave to thy faithful servant. + +_Dio._ Oh! Philotas, +Thou little know'st the cares, the pangs of empire. +The ermin'd pride, the purple that adorns +A conqueror's breast, but serves, my friend, to hide +A 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 guilt +Be 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 lance +Aim'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. + +_Enter MELANTHON, with GREEK OFFICERS and SOLDIERS._ + +_Dio._ Assassins, and not warriors! do ye come, +When the wide range of battle claims your sword, +Thus do ye come against a single life +To wage the war? Did not our buckler ring +With all your darts, in one collected volley, +Shower'd on my head? Did not your swords at once +Point 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 slay +The foe of human kind. With rival ardour +We took the field; one voice, one mind, one heart; +All leagu'd, all covenanted: in yon camp +Spirits there are who aim, like us, at glory. +Whene'er you sally forth, whene'er the Greeks +Shall scale your walls, prepare thee to encounter +A like assault. By me the youth of Greece +Thus 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 see +How vile the body to a mind that pants +For genuine glory. Twice three hundred Greeks +Have sworn like us, to hunt thee through the ranks; +Ours the first lot; we've fail'd; on yonder plain +Appear in arms, the faithful band will meet thee. + +_Dio._ Vile slave, no more. Melanthon, drag 'em hence +To die in misery. Impal'd alive, +The winds shall parch them on the craggy cliff. +Selected from the rest, let one depart +A messenger to Greece, to tell the fate +Her chosen sons, her first adventurers met. + +[_Exit DIONYSIUS._ + +_Mel._ Unhappy men! how shall my care protect +Your forfeit lives? Philotas, thou conduct them +To the deep dungeon's gloom. In that recess, +'Midst the wild tumult of eventful war +We may ward off the blow. My friends, farewell: +That officer will guide your steps. + +[_All follow PHILOTAS, except PHOCION._ + +_Phoc._ Satisfy my doubts; how fares Euphrasia? + +_Mel._ Euphrasia lives, and fills the anxious moments +With every virtue. Wherefore venture hither? +Why with rash valour penetrate our gates? + +_Phoc._ Could I refrain? Oh! could I tamely wait +Th' event of ling'ring war? With patience count +The lazy-pacing hours, while here in Syracuse +The 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 guard +Fell victims to our rage; but in that moment +Down 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 more +Timoleon's camp! alarm his slumb'ring rage; +Assail the walls; thou with thy phalanx seek +The subterraneous path; that way at night +The Greeks may enter, and let in destruction +On the astonish'd foe. + +_Phoc._ By Heav'n I will; +My breath shall wake his rage; this very night +When sleep sits heavy on the slumb'ring city, +Then Greece unsheaths her sword, and great revenge +Shall stalk with death and horror o'er the ranks +Of slaughter'd troops a sacrifice to freedom! +But first let me behold Euphrasia. + +_Mel._ Hush +Thy pent-up valour: to a secret haunt +I'll guide thy steps; there dwell, and in apt time +I'll bring Euphrasia to thy longing arms. + +_Phoc._ Oh! lead me to her; that exalted virtue +With 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 rage +With blow repeated in the tyrant's veins. [_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE II. + + +_A Temple, with a Monument in the Middle._ + +_Enter EUPHRASIA, 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 viands +I'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. + +_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 gods, 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 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 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 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 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 shore, +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 lustre. + +_Phil._ Oh! forgive +My ardent zeal? there is no time to waste. +You must withdraw; trust to your faithful friends. +Pass 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 ignoble 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, 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 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 associates, +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._ + +_Cal._ This sullen musing in these drear abodes +Alarms suspicion: the king knows thy plottings, +Thy rooted hatred to the state and him. +His sov'reign will commands thee to repair +This moment to his presence. + +_Eup._ Ha! what means +The tyrant?--I obey. [_Exit CALIPPUS._] And, oh! ye pow'rs, +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._ + + + + +ACT THE FOURTH. + +SCENE I. + + +_Enter DIONYSIUS, 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 meet +His boasted phalanx on the embattled plain. +And doth he now, on peaceful councils bent, +Despatch his herald?--Let the slave approach. + +_Enter the HERALD._ + +Now speak thy purpose; what doth Greece impart? + +_Her._ Timoleon, sir, whose great renown in arms +Is equall'd only by the softer virtues +Of mild humanity, that sway his heart, +Sends me his delegate to offer terms, +On which ev'n foes may well accord; on which +The 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 havoc +Of ruthless war; he hath survey'd around +The 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 standard +Uprear'd in Sicily? and wherefore here +The iron ranks of war, from which the shepherd +Retires appall'd, 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. + +_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 limbs +Of those he murder'd, 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 unsheath'd his sword. +A single day will pay the funeral rites. +To-morrow's sun may see both armies meet +Without hostility, and all in honour; +You to inter the troops who bravely fell; +We, on our part, to give an humble sod +To 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 dawn +Illume the world, the rage of wasting war +In vain shall thirst for blood. +Thou know'st my last resolve, and now farewell. +Some careful officer conduct him forth. + +[_Exit HERALD._ + +By Heav'n, 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, +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 spirit +Lie 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. + +_Enter EUPHRASIA._ + +_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 care +To sooth affliction, and extend his life, +Evander has commanded. + +_Eup._ Vile dissembler! +Detested homicide! [_Aside._]--And has thy heart +Felt for the wretched? + +_Dio._ Urgencies of state +Abridg'd his liberty; but to his person +All honour hath been paid. + +_Eup._ The righteous gods +Have mark'd thy ways, and will in time repay +Just 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 pity +Has touch'd your heart, oh! send me, send me to him. + +_Dio._ Control this wild alarm; with prudent care +Philotas shall conduct him; here I grant +The 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 Greek +Torments have wrung the truth. Thy husband, Phocion-- + +_Eup._ Oh! say, speak of my Phocion. + +_Dio._ He; 'tis he +Hath kindled up this war; with treacherous arts +Inflam'd the states of Greece; and now the traitor +Comes 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 rebellion +Erect her standard here. + +_Eup._ 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 crown'd, +And a whole nation's voice +Applaud my hero with a love like mine! + +_Dio._ Ungrateful fair! Has not our sovereign will +On 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 children +Shall 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 late +Accept 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 knows +You and your father are my hostages; +And for his treason both may answer. + +_Eup._ Think'st thou then +So meanly of my Phocion?--Dost thou deem him +Poorly 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 little +Of his exalted soul. With gen'rous ardour +Still 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 skill +Deep in the flinty rock; a monument +Of 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 good +Was a state crime; the pow'rs of genius then +Were a constructive treason. + +_Dio._ Now your father's doom +Is fix'd; irrevocably fix'd. + +_Eup._ Thy doom, perhaps, +May first be fix'd; the doom that ever waits +The fell oppressor, from a throne usurp'd +Hurl'd headlong down. Think of thy father's fate +At Corinth, Dionysius! + +_Dio._ 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. [_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._ + + +SCENE II. + + +_The Inside of the Temple._ + +_Enter PHOCION and MELANTHON._ + +_Phoc._ Each step I move, a grateful terror shakes +My frame to dissolution. + +_Mel._ Summon all +Thy wonted firmness; in that dreary vault +A living king is number'd with the dead. +I'll take my post, near where the pillar'd aisle +Supports the central dome, that no alarm +Surprise you in the pious act. [_Exit._ + +_Phoc._ If here +They both are found; if in Evander's arms +Euphrasia meets my search, the fates atone +For all my suff'rings, all afflictions past. +Yes, I will seek them--ha!--the gaping tomb +Invites my steps--now, be propitious Heaven! + +[_He enters the Tomb._ + +_Enter EUPHRASIA._ + +_Eup._ All hail, ye caves of horror!--In this 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 Pow'r 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._ + +_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._ Love +Inspir'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 reign +In Sicily: Timoleon's gen'rous care +Protects 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. + +_Enter EVANDER and MELANTHON._ + +_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! again +I 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 reflection +Exalts the bliss to rapture. + +_Eup._ Why, my father, +Why thus adventure forth! The strong alarm +O'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---- + +_Enter PHILOTAS._ + +_Phil._ 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 order'd +This 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 demands +Our utmost vigour. 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. + +_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 seeming +Becalms his looks, the rankling heart within +Teems 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 turn +His 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 here +We 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 boasted +At Tauromenium, when its force resistless +Mow'd down the ranks of war: I then might guide +The battle's rage, and, ere Evander die, +Add still another laurel to my brow. + +_Eup._ Enough of laurell'd victory your sword +Hath 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 forgot +Acquaintance with this hand.--And yet--O shame +It will not be: the momentary blaze +Sinks, 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 cohorts +Shall form their ranks around this sacred dome. + +_Phoc._ And my poor captive friends, my brave companions +Taken in battle, wilt thou guard their lives? + +_Mel._ Trust to my care: no danger shall assail them. + +_Phoc._ By Heav'n, the glorious expectation swells +This panting bosom! Yes, Euphrasia, yes; +A while 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 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 slaughter +Can 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, with MELANTHON and PHILOTAS._ + +_Eup._ Ye guardian deities, watch all his ways. + +_Eva._ Come, my Euphrasia, in this interval +Together 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._ + + + + +ACT THE FIFTH. + +SCENE I. + + +_Enter DIONYSIUS and CALIPPUS._ + +_Dio._ Ere the day clos'd, while yet the busy eye +Might view their camp, their stations, and their guards, +Their preparations for approaching night;-- +Didst thou then mark the motions of the Greek? + +_Cal._ From the watch-tower I saw them: all things spoke +A foe secure, and discipline relax'd. + +_Dio._ Their folly gives them to my sword. Are all +My orders issued? + +_Cal._ All. + +_Dio._ The troops retir'd +To gain recruited vigour from repose? + +_Cal._ The city round lies hush'd in sleep. + +_Dio._ Anon +Let each brave officer, of chosen valour, +Forsake his couch, and with delib'rate spirit, +Meet at the citadel. An hour, at furthest, +Before the dawn; 'tis fix'd to storm their camp; +Haste, Calippus, +Fly to thy post, and bid Euphrasia enter. + +[_Exit CALIPPUS._ + +Evander dies this night:--Euphrasia too +Shall be dispos'd of. Curse on Phocion's fraud, +That from my pow'r withdrew their infant boy. +In him the seed of future kings were crush'd, +And the whole hated line at once extinguish'd. + +_Enter EUPHRASIA._ + +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 hoary 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 gods 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 +Assault 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 passage; man by man they die. +There may'st thou dwell amidst the wild commotion. + +_Eup._ Ye pitying gods, protect my father there! + +[_Exeunt._ + + +SCENE II. + + +_The Citadel._ + +_Enter CALIPPUS, and several OFFICERS: DIONYSIUS meeting them._ + +_Dio._ Ye brave associates, who so oft have shar'd +Our toil and danger in the field of glory, +My fellow warriors, what no god 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, assault 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 shore.--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 cuirass, 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 massacre 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._ + +The din +Of arms with clearer sound advances. Hark! +That sudden burst!--Again!--They rush upon us! +The portal opens; lo!--see there!--behold, +War, horrid war, invades the sacred fane! +No altar gives a sanctuary now. [_Warlike Music._ + +_Enter DIONYSIUS and CALIPPUS, with several SOLDIERS._ + +_Dio._ Here will I mock their siege; here stand at bay, +And brave them to the last. + +_Cal._ Our weary foes +Desist from the pursuit. + +_Dio._ Tho' all betray me, +Tho' ev'ry god conspire, I will not yield. +If I must fall, the temple's pond'rous roof, +The mansion of the gods combin'd against me, +Shall first be crush'd, and lie in ruin with me. +Euphrasia here! Detested, treach'rous woman! +For my revenge preserv'd!--By Heaven, 'tis well; +Vengeance awaits thy guilt, and this good sword +Thus sends thee to atone the bleeding victims +This night has massacred. + +_Cal._ [_Holding DIONYSIUS'S Arm._] My liege, forbear; +Her life preserv'd may plead your cause with Greece, +And mitigate your fate. + +_Dio._ Presumptuous slave! +My rage is up in arms;--by Heav'n, she dies. + +_Enter EVANDER, from the Tomb._ + +_Eva._ Horror! forbear!--Thou murd'rer, hold thy hand! +The gods behold thee, horrible assassin! +Restrain the blow; it were a stab to Heav'n; +All nature shudders at it!--Will no friend +Arm in a cause like this a father's hand? +Strike at this bosom rather. Lo! Evander +Prostrate and groveling on the earth before thee! +He begs to die:--exhaust the scanty drops +That lag about his heart;--but spare my child. + +_Dio._ Evander!----Do my eyes once more behold him?-- +May the fiends seize Philotas! Treach'rous slave! +'Tis well thou liv'st; thy death were poor revenge +From any hand but mine. [_Offers to strike._ + +_Eup._ No, tyrant no; [_Rushing before EVANDER._ +I have provok'd your vengeance; through this bosom +Open a passage; first on me, on me +Exhaust your fury. Ev'ry pow'r above +Commands thee to respect that aged head: +His wither'd frame wants blood to glut thy rage: +Strike here; these veins are full; here's blood enough; +The purple tide will gush to glad thy sight. + +_Dio._ Amazement blasts and freezes ev'ry pow'r! +Ha! the fierce tide of war [_A flourish of Trumpets._ +This way comes rushing on. + +[_Goes to the Top of the Stage._ + +_Eup._ [_Embracing EVANDER._] Oh! thus, my father, +We'll perish thus together. + +_Dio._ Bar the gates; +Close ev'ry passage, and repel their force. + +_Eva._ And must I see thee bleed? Oh, for a sword! +Bring, bring me daggers! + +_Eup._ Ha! + +_Dio._ Guards, seize the slave, +And give him to my rage. + +_Eva._ [_Seized by the GUARDS._] Oh! +Inhuman villains! + +_Eup._ Now, one glorious effort!-- + +_Dio._ Let me despatch; thou traitor, thus my arm-- + +_Eup._ A daughter's arm, fell monster, strikes the blow. +[_Stabs DIONYSIUS._ +Yes, first she strikes; an injur'd daughter's arm +Sends thee devoted to th' infernal gods. [_He falls._ + +_Dio._ May curses blast thy arm! May Ętna's fires +Convulse the land; to its foundation shake +The groaning isle! May civil discord bear +Her flaming brand through all the realms of Greece; +And the whole race expire in pangs like mine! [_Dies._ + +_Eup._ Behold, all Sicily behold!--The point +Glows with the tyrant's blood. Ye slaves, [_To the GUARDS._] look there; +Kneel to your rightful king: the blow for freedom +Gives you the rights of men! And, oh, my father, +My ever honour'd sire, it gives thee life! + +_Eva._ My child--my daughter--sav'd again by thee! +[_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 see him +A spectacle for public view. Euphrasia! +Evander too!--Thus to behold you both---- + +_Eva._ To her direct thy looks; there fix thy praise, +And gaze with wonder there. The life I gave her, +Oh, she has us'd it for the noblest ends! +To fill each duty; make her father feel +The purest joy, the heart-dissolving bliss +To have a grateful child.--But has the rage +Of slaughter ceas'd? + +_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 +Timoleon conquers; to redress the wrongs +Of bleeding Sicily, the hero comes. +Thee, good Melanthon, thee, thou gen'rous man, +His justice shall reward. Thee too, Philotas, +Whose sympathizing heart could feel the touch +Of soft humanity, the hero's bounty, +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. + + + + +[Transcriber's Note: The following typographical errors in the original +edition have been corrected. "Dia." has been changed to "Dio." in the +speech beginning "Perdiccas, ere the morn's revolving light"; "Enp." has +been changed to "Eup." in the speech beginning "Give me my father; here +you hold him fetter'd;"; "Couduct me forward" has been changed to +"Conduct me forward"; and a missing bracket has been added before the +stage direction "_To the GUARDS._".] + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Grecian Daughter, by Arthur Murphy + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE GRECIAN DAUGHTER *** + +***** This file should be named 30271-8.txt or 30271-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/2/7/30271/ + +Produced by Steven desJardins and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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