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.