, 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
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
Thy dark half-hinted purpose--lead me to him;
If thou hast murder'd him----

_Phil._ By Heav'n, he lives.

_Mel._ Then bless me with one tender interview.
Thrice has the sun gone down, since last, these eyes
Have seen the good old king; say, why is this?
Wherefore debarr'd his presence? Thee, Philotas,
The troops obey, that guard the royal pris'ner;
Each avenue to thee is open; thou
Canst grant admittance; let me, let me see him.

_Phil._ Entreat no more; the soul of Dionysius
Is ever wakeful; rent with all the pangs
That wait on conscious guilt.

_Mel._ But when dun night----

_Phil._ Alas! it cannot be: but mark my words.
Let Greece urge on her general assault.
Despatch some friend, who may o'erleap the walls,
And tell Timoleon, the good old Evander
Has liv'd three days, by Dionysius' order,
Lock'd up from ev'ry sustenance of nature,
And life, now wearied out, almost expires.

_Mel._ If any spark of virtue dwell within thee,
Lead me, Philotas, lead me to his prison.

_Phil._ The tyrant's jealous care hath mov'd him thence.

_Mel._ Ha! mov'd him, say'st thou?

_Phil._ At the midnight hour,
Silent convey'd him up the steep ascent,
To where the elder Dionysius form'd,
On the sharp summit of the pointed rock,
Which overhangs the deep, a dungeon drear:
Cell within cell, a labyrinth of horror,
Deep cavern'd in the cliff, where many a wretch,
Unseen by mortal eye, has groan'd in anguish,
And died obscure, unpitied, and unknown.

_Mel._ Clandestine murderer! Yes, there's the scene
Of horrid massacre. Full oft I've walk'd,
When all things lay in sleep and darkness hush'd.
Yes, oft I've walk'd the lonely sullen beach,
And heard the mournful sound of