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.