_Eup._ Support him; bear him hence; 'tis all I ask. _Evan._ [_As he is carried off._] O Death! where art thou? Death, thou dread of guilt, Thou wish of innocence, affliction's friend, Tir'd nature calls thee; come, in mercy come, And lay me pillow'd in eternal rest. My child--where art thou? give me; reach thy hand, Why dost thou weep?--My eyes are dry--Alas! Quite parch'd, my lips--quite parch'd, they cleave together. [_Exeunt._ _Enter ARCAS._ _Arcas._ The grey of morn breaks thro' yon eastern clouds. 'Twere time this interview should end: the hour Now warns Euphrasia hence: what man could dare, I have indulg'd--Philotas!--ha! the cell Left void!--Evander gone!--What may this mean? Philotas, speak. _Enter PHILOTAS._ _Phil._ Oh! vile, detested lot, Here to obey the savage tyrant's will, And murder virtue that can thus behold Its executioner, and smile upon him. That piteous sight! _Arcas._ She must withdraw, Philotas; Delay undoes us both. The restless main Glows with the blush of day. The time requires Without or further pause, or vain excuse, That she depart this moment. _Phil._ Arcas, yes; My voice shall warn her of th' approaching danger. [_Exit._ _Arcas._ 'Would she had ne'er adventur'd to our guard! I dread th' event; and hark!--the wind conveys In clearer sound the uproar of the main. The fates prepare new havoc; on th' event Depends the fate of empire. Wherefore thus Delays Euphrasia? Ha! what means, Philotas, That sudden haste, that pale, disorder'd look? _Enter PHILOTAS._ _Phil._ O! I can hold no more; at such a sight Ev'n the hard heart of tyranny would melt To infant softness. Arcas, go, behold The pious fraud of charity and love; Behold that unexampled goodness; see Th' expedient sharp necessity has taught her; Thy heart will burn, will melt, will yearn to view A child like her. _Arcas._ Ha!--say what mystery Wakes these emotions? _Phil._ Wonder-working virtue! The father foster'd at his daughter's breast! O! filial piety!--The milk design'd For her own offspring, on the parent's lip Allays the parching fever. _Arcas._ That device Has she then form'd, eluding all our care, To minister relief? _Phil._ On the bare earth Evander lies; and as his languid pow'rs Imbibe with eager thirst the kind refreshment, And his looks speak unutterable thanks, Euphrasia views him with the tend'rest glance, Ev'n as a mother doating on her child; And, ever and anon, amidst the smiles Of pure delight, of exquisite sensation, A silent tear steals down; the tear of virtue, That sweetens grief to rapture. All her laws Inverted quite, great nature triumphs still. _Arcas._ The tale unmans my soul. _Phil._ Ye tyrants, hear it, And learn, that, while your cruelty prepares Unheard-of torture, virtue can keep pace With your worst efforts, and can try new modes To bid men grow enamour'd of her charms. _Arcas._ Philotas, for Euphrasia, in her cause, I now can hazard all. Let us preserve Her father for her.