ry?

_Dio._ With him invests our walls, and bids rebellion
Erect her standard here.

_Eup._ Oh! bless him gods!
Where'er my hero treads the paths of war,
List on his side; against the hostile javelin
Uprear his mighty buckler; to his sword
Lend the fierce whirlwind's rage, that he may come
With wreaths of triumph, and with conquest crown'd,
And a whole nation's voice
Applaud my hero with a love like mine!

_Dio._ Ungrateful fair! Has not our sovereign will
On thy descendants fix'd Sicilia's crown?
Have I not vow'd protection to your boy?

_Eup._ From thee the crown! from thee! Euphrasia's children
Shall on a nobler basis found their rights;
On their own virtue, and a people's choice.

_Dio._ Misguided woman!

_Eup._ Ask of thee protection!
The father's valour shall protect his boy.

_Dio._ Rush not on sure destruction; ere too late
Accept our proffer'd grace. The terms are these;
Instant send forth a message to your husband;
Bid him draw off his Greeks! unmoor his fleet,
And measure back his way. Full well he knows
You and your father are my hostages;
And for his treason both may answer.

_Eup._ Think'st thou then
So meanly of my Phocion?--Dost thou deem him
Poorly wound up to a mere fit of valour,
To melt away in a weak woman's tear?
Oh! thou dost little know him; know'st but little
Of his exalted soul. With gen'rous ardour
Still will he urge the great, the glorious plan,
And gain the ever honour'd bright reward,
Which fame entwines around the patriot's brow,
And bids for ever flourish on his tomb,
For nations freed, and tyrants laid in dust.

_Dio._ By Heav'n, this night Evander breathes his last.

_Eup._ Better for him to sink at once to rest,
Than linger thus beneath the gripe of famine,
In a vile dungeon, scoop'd with barb'rous skill
Deep in the flinty rock; a monument
Of that fell malice, and that black suspicion,
That mark'd your father's reign; a dungeon drear,
Prepar'd for innocence!--Vice liv'd secure,
It flourish'd, triumph'd, grateful to his heart;
'Twas virtue only could give umbrage; then,
In that black period, to be great and good
Was a state crime; the pow'rs of genius then
Were a constructive treason.

_Dio._ Now your father's doom
Is fix'd; irrevocably fix'd.

_Eup._ Thy doom, perhaps,
May first be fix'd; the doom that ever waits
The fell oppressor, from a throne usurp'd
Hurl'd headlong down. Think of thy father's fate
At Corinth, Dionysius!

_Dio._ Ha! this night
Eva