lotas 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 th