Stems the rough billow; and, ere yonder sun,

That now declining seeks the western wave,

Shall to the shades of night resign the world,

Thou'lt see the Punic sails in yonder bay,

Whose waters wash the walls of Syracuse.

Mel. Art thou a stranger to Timoleon's name?

Intent to plan, and circumspect to see

All possible events, he rushes on[Pg 9]

[Pg 9]

Resistless in his course! Your boasted master

Scarce stands at bay; each hour the strong blockade

Hems him in closer, and ere long thou'lt view

Oppression's iron rod to fragments shiver'd!

The good Evander then——

Phil. Alas, Evander

Will ne'er behold the golden time you look for!

Mel. How! not behold it! Say, Philotas, speak;

Has the fell tyrant,—have his felon murderers——

Phil. As yet, my friend, Evander lives.

Mel. And yet

 Prev. P 6/101 next