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Yes, first she strikes; an injur'd daughter's arm
Sends thee devoted to th' infernal gods. [He falls.
Dio. May curses blast thy arm! May Etna's fires
Convulse the land; to its foundation shake
The groaning isle! May civil discord bear
Her flaming brand through all the realms of Greece;
And the whole race expire in pangs like mine! [Dies.
Eup. Behold! all Sicily behold!-The point
Glows with the tyrant's blood. Ye slaves, [To the
GUARDS.] look there;

Kneel to your rightful king: the blow for freedom
Gives you the rights of men! And, oh my father,
My ever honour'd sire, it gives thee life!

thee!

Eva. My child-my daughter-sav'd again by [He embraces her. A Flourish of Trumpets. Enter PHOCION, MELANTHON, PHILOTAS, &c.

Phoc. Now let the monster yield.-My best Euphrasia !

Eup. My lord!-my Phocion!-welcome to my heart.

Lo! there the wonders of Euphrasia's arm!

Phoc. And is the proud one fall'n! The dawn shall
see him

A spectacle for public view. Euphrasia!
Evander too!-Thus to behold you both-

Eva. To her direct thy looks; there fix thy praise,
And gaze with wonder there. The life I
gave her,
Oh, she has us'd it for the noblest ends!
To fill each duty; make her father feel
The purest joy, the heart-dissolving bliss
To have a grateful child.—But has the rage
Of slaughter ceas'd?

Phoc. It has.

Eva. Where is Timoleon?

Phoc. He guards the citadel; there gives his orders To calm the uproar, and recal from carnage His conqu❜ring troops.

Eup. Oh! once again, my father,

Thy sway shall bless the land. Not for himself
Timoleon conquers; to redress the wrongs
Of bleeding Sicily, the hero comes.

Thee, good Melanthon, thee, thou gen'rous man,
His justice shall reward. Thee too, Philotas,
Whose sympathizing heart could feel the touch
Of soft humanity, the hero's bounty,

His brightest honours, shall be lavish'd on thee. Evander, too, will place you near his throne; And show mankind, ev'n on this shore of being, That virtue still shall meet its sure reward.

Phil. I am rewarded: feelings, such as mine, Are worth all dignities; my heart repays me.

Eva. Come, let us seek Timoleon; to his care I will commend ye both: for now, alas! Thrones and dominions now no more for me. To thee I give my crown: yes, thou, Euphrasia, Shalt reign in Sicily. And, oh! ye Pow'rs, In that bright eminence of care and peril, Watch over all her ways; conduct and guide The goodness you inspir'd; that she may prove If e'er distress like mine invade the land, A parent to her people; stretch the ray

Of filial piety to times unborn,

That men may hear her unexampled virtue,

And learn to emulate "The Grecian Daughter."

THE END.

LONDON:

PRINTED BY THOMAS DAVISON, WHITEFRIARS.

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THE

RIVAL QUEENS;

OR, THE DEATH OF

ALEXANDER THE GREAT;

A TRAGEDY,

IN FIVE ACTS;

BY NATHANIEL LEE.

AS PERFORMED AT THE THEATRES ROYAL,

DRURY LANE AND COVENT GARDEN

PRINTED UNDER THE AUTHORITY OF THE MANAGERS

FROM THE PROMPT BOOK.

WITH REMARKS

BY MRS. INCHBALD.

LONDON:

PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN PATERNOSTER-ROW.

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