Chapter 5

_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.