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.