Philotas

Phocion

Phoc. Satisfy my doubts; how fares Euphrasia?

Mel. Euphrasia lives, and fills the anxious moments

With every virtue. Wherefore venture hither?

Why with rash valour penetrate our gates?

Phoc. Could I refrain? Oh! could I tamely wait

Th' event of ling'ring war? With patience count

The lazy-pacing hours, while here in Syracuse

The tyrant keeps all that my heart holds dear;

For her dear sake, all danger sinks before me?

For her I burst the barriers of the gate,

Where the deep cavern'd rock affords a passage.

A hundred chosen Greeks pursu'd my steps,

We forc'd an entrance; the devoted guard

Fell victims to our rage; but in that moment

Down from the walls superior numbers came.

The tyrant led them on. We rush'd upon him,

If we could reach his heart, to end the war.

But Heav'n thought otherwise. Melanthon, say,—

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