eel,
And by one carnage bury all in ruin.
My valiant friends, haste to your several posts,
And let this night a calm unruffled spirit
Lie hush'd in sleep: away, my friends, disperse.
Philotas, waits Euphrasia as we order'd?

_Phil._ She's here at hand.

_Dio._ Admit her to our presence.
Rage and despair, a thousand warring passions,
All rise by turns, and piecemeal rend my heart.
Yet ev'ry means, all measures must be tried,
To sweep the Grecian spoiler from the land,
And fix the crown unshaken on my brow.

_Enter EUPHRASIA._

_Eup._ What sudden cause requires Euphrasia's presence?

_Dio._ Approach, fair mourner, and dispel thy fears.
Thy grief, thy tender duty to thy father,
Has touch'd me nearly. In his lone retreat,
Respect, attendance, every lenient care
To sooth affliction, and extend his life,
Evander has commanded.

_Eup._ Vile dissembler!
Detested homicide! [_Aside._]--And has thy heart
Felt for the wretched?

_Dio._ Urgencies of state
Abridg'd his liberty; but to his person
All honour hath been paid.

_Eup._ The righteous gods
Have mark'd thy ways, and will in time repay
Just retribution.

_Dio._ If to see your father,
If here to meet him in a fond embrace,
Will calm thy breast, and dry those beauteous tears,
A moment more shall bring him to your presence.

_Eup._ Ha! lead him hither! Sir, to move him now,
Aged, infirm, worn out with toil and years--
No, let me seek him rather--If soft pity
Has touch'd your heart, oh! send me, send me to him.

_Dio._ Control this wild alarm; with prudent care
Philotas shall conduct him; here I grant
The tender interview.

_Eup._ Disastrous fate!
Ruin impends!--This will discover all!
I'll perish first. [_Aside._
Though much I languish to behold my father,
Yet now it were not fit--the sun goes down;
Night falls apace; soon as returning day--

_Dio._ This night, this very hour, you both must meet.
Together you may serve the state and me.
Thou seest the havoc of wide wasting war;
And more, full well you know, are still to bleed.
Thou may'st prevent their fate.

_Eup._ Oh! give the means,
And I will bless thee for it.

_Dio._ From a Greek
Torments have wrung the truth. Thy husband, Phocion--

_Eup._ Oh! say, speak of my Phocion.

_Dio._ He; 'tis he
Hath kindled up this war; with treacherous arts
Inflam'd the states of Greece; and now the traitor
Comes with a foreign aid to wrest my crown.

_Eup._ And does my Phocion share Timoleon's glo