All shall be well in Syracuse: a fleet

Appears in view, and brings the chosen sons

Of Carthage. From the hill that fronts the main,

I saw their canvass swelling with the wind,

While on the purple wave the western sun

Glanc'd the remains of day.

Eup. Yet till the fury

Of war subside, the wild, the horrid interval

In safety let me sooth to dear delight

In a lov'd father's presence: from his sight,

For three long days, with specious feign'd excuse

Your guards debarr'd me. Oh! while yet he lives,

Indulge a daughter's love; worn out with age

Soon must he seal his eyes in endless night,

And with his converse charm my ear no more.

Dio. Why thus anticipate misfortune? Still

Evander mocks the injuries of time.

Calippus, thou survey the city round;

Station the centinels, that no surprise

Invade the unguarded works, while drowsy night

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