'Tis well thou liv'st; thy death were poor revenge | My ever honoured sire, it gives thee life. From any hand but mine. [Offers to strike. Evan. My child ! my daughter! saved again Euph. No, tyrant, no;

by thee!

(Embraces her. (Rushing before Evan. I have provoked your vengeance : through this A flourish of Trumpets.--Enter PHOCION, MEbosom

LANTHON, PHILOTAS, &c. Open a passage ; first on me, on me

Pho. Now, let the monster yield. My best Exhaust your fury; every power above

Euphrasia! Commands thee to respect that aged head: Euph. My lord ! my Phocion! welcome to His withered frame wants blood to glut thy rage; my heart. Strike here; these veins are full; here's blood Lo! there the wonders of Euphrasia's arm ! enough;

Pho. And is the proud one fallen! The dawn The purple tide will gush to glad thy sight.

shall see him
Dion. Amazement blasts and freezes every | A spectacle for public view. Euphrasia !
power!

Evander too! Thus to behold you both-
They shall not live. Ha! the fierce tide of war Evan. To her direct thy looks; there fix thy

. (A flourish of trumpets. praise, This way comes rushing on.

And gaze with wonder there. The life I gave [Goes to the top of the stage.

her,
Euph. (Embracing Evan.) Oh! thus, my Oh, she bas used it for the noblest ends !
father,

To fill each duty; make her father feel
We'll perish thus together.

The purest joy, the heart-dissolving bliss
Dion. Bar the gates;

To have a grateful child. But has the rage
Close every passage, and repel their force. Of slaughter ceased ?
Evan. And must I see thee bleed? Oh! for a Pho. It has.
sword!

Evan. Where is Timoleon ? Bring, bring me daggers !

Pho. He guards the citadel; there gives his Dion. (Advancing.) Guards, seize the slave,

orders And give him to my rage.

To calm the uproar, and recall from carnage Evan. (Seized by the guards.] Oh! spare her, His conquering troops. spare her!

Euph, Oh ! once again, my father, Inhuman villains !

| Thy sway shall bless the land. Not for himself Euph. Now, one glorious effort !

Timoleon conquers; to redress the wrongs, Dion. Let me dispatch ; thou traitor, thus Of bleeding Sicily the hero comes. iny arm

Thee, good Melanthon, thee, thou generous man, Euph. A daughter's arm, fell monster, strikes His justice shall reward. Thee, too, Philotas, the blow.

Stabs him. Whose sympathizing heart could feel the touch Yes, first she strikes; an injured daughter's arm Of soft humanity, the hero's bounty, Sends thee devoted to the infernal gods.

His brightest honours, shall be lavished on thee.

(He falls. Evander, too, will place thee near his throne; Dion. Detested fiend ! Thus by a woman's And shew mankind, even on this shore of being, hand!

That virtue still shall meet its sure reward. Euph. Yes, tyrant, yes ; in a dear father's Phil. I am rewarded : feelings such as mine cause,

Are worth all dignities; my heart repays me. A woman's vengeance towers above her sex. Evan. Come, let us seek Timoleon; to his Dion. May curses blast thy arm! May Ætna's

care fires

| I will commend ye both: for now, alas ! Convulse the land; to its foundation shake Thrones and dominions now no more for me. The groaning isle! May civil discord bear To thee I give my crown: yes, thou Euphrasia, Her flaming brand through all the realms of Shall reign in Sicily. And oh! ye powers, Greece;

In that bright eminence of care and peril, And the whole race expire in pangs like mine! Watch over all her ways; conduct and guide

[Dies. The goodness you inspired; that she may prove, Euph. Behold, all Sicily, behold! The point | If e'er distress like mine invade the land, Glows with the tyrant's blood. Ye slaves, (To A parent to her people; stretch the ray the guards.] look there!

Of filial piety to times unborn, Kneel to your rightful king: the blow for free That men may hcar her unexampled virtue, dom

And learn to emulate THE GRECIAN DAUGHTER! Gives you the rights of men ! and oh! my fa

(Exeunt omnes. ther,

EPILOGUE.

BY GARRICK

The Grecian Daughter's compliments to all ;

Passions burn, Begs that for Epilogue you will not call;

And bets are double ! For leering, giggling would be out of season,

Double, double ! But hopes, by me, you'll hear a little reason.

Toil and trouble, A father rais'd from death! a nation sav'd!

Passions burn, A tyrant's crimes by female spirit brav'd!

And all is bubble. The tyrant stabb’d, and by her nerveless arm, But jest apart, (for scandal forms these tales,) With virtue's spell surrounding guards could Falsehoods be mute; let Justice hold the scales. charm!

Britons were ne'er enslay'd by evil pow'rs: Can she, this sacred tumult in her breast, To peace and wedded love they give the midnight Turn Father, Freedom, Virtue, all to jest?

hours. Wake you, ye fair ones, from your sweet repose, From slumbers pure no rattling dice can wake 'em: As wanton zephyrs wake the sleeping rose ? Who make the laws, were never known to break Dispel these clouds which o'er your eye-lids L 'em. crept,

'Tis false, ye fair, whatever spleen may say, Which our wise bard mistook, and swore you That you down folly's tide are borne away. wept?

You never wish at deep distress to sneer; Shall she to macaronies life restore,

For eyes, tho' bright, are brighter thro' a tear. Who yawn'd half dead, and curs'd the tragic Should it e'er be the nation's wretched fate, Bore?

To laugh at all that's good and wise and great : Dismiss 'em smirking to their nightly haunt, Let Genius rouse, the friend of human kind, Where dice and cards their moon-struck minds To break those spells which charm, and sink the enchant?

mind : Some, muffled like the witches in Macbeth, Let Comedy, with pointed ridicule, Brood o'er the magic circle, pale as death! Pierce to the quick each knave and vicious fool: Others the cauldron go about-about!

Let Tragedy--a warning to the times, And Ruin enters as the Fates go out,

| Lift high her dagger at exalted crimes; Bubble, bubble,

Drive from the heart each base, unmanly passion, Toil and trouble,

Till Virtue triumph in despite of Fashion,

THE

EARL OF WARWICK.

BY

FRANKLIN.

PROLOGUE

BY COLMAN.

SEVERE each poet's lot; but sure most hard | In Shakspeare's awful footsteps does not tread, Is the condition of the play-house bard:

Thro' the wild field of hist'ry fears to stray, Doom'd to hear all that would-be critics talk, And builds upon one narrow spot his play; And in the go-cart of dull rules to walk !

Steps not from realm to realm, whole seas be* Yet authors multiply,' you say. 'Tis true,

tween, But what a numerous crop of critics too!

But barely changes twice or thrice his scene : Scholars alone of old durst judge and write: While Shakspeare vaults on the poetic wire, But now each journalist turns Stagyrite;

And pleas'd spectators fearfully admire, Quintilians in each coffee-house you meet, Our bard, a critic pole between his hands, And many a Longinus walks the street.

On the tight rope, scarce balanc'd, trembling In Shakspeare's days, when his advent'rous

stands; muse,

Slowly and cautiously his way he makes,
A muse of fire! durst each bold licence use, And fears to fall at every step he takes.
Her noble ardour met no critic's phlegm,.. While then fierce Warwick be before you brings,
To check wild fancy, or her flights condemn: That setter-up and puller-down of kings,
Ariels and Calibans, unblam’d, she drew,

With British candour dissipate his fear!
Or goblins, ghosts, and witches brought to view. | An English story fits an English ear.
If to historic truth she shap'd her verse,

Tho' hoarse and crude you deem his first essay, A nation's annals freely she'd rehearse;

A second may your favours well repay : Bring Rome's or England's story on the stage, | Applause may nerve his verse and cheer his heart, And run, in three short hours, thro' half an age. And teach the practice of this dangerous art. Our bard, all terror-struck, and fill'd with dread,

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

MEN.
King EDWARD, attached to Lady E. Gray.
Eure of \'ARWICK, her Looer.
ral o PEMBROKE, Friend to Warwick.
Eurt of SUFFOLK, hus Enemy.

WOMEN.
MARGARET of Anjou, the deposed Queen.
Lady ELIZABETH GRAY, aitached to Warwick.
Lady ClIFFORD, Confidante of Margaret.

Officers, Altendants, Guards, &c.

SCENE,—The Palace.

ACT І.

SCENE I.-A Palace.

| I shall provide her with a fitter husband,

A nobler far, and worthier of her charms Enter MARGARET of ANJOU, and Lady CLIF- | Young Edward FORD.

Clif. Ha! the king! impossible! Clif. THANKS, gracious Heaven! my royal Warwick, even now, commissioned by the state mistress smiles,

To treat with Lewis, offers England's throne Unusual gladness sparkles in her eye,

To France's daughter; and, ere this, perhaps, And bids me welcome in the stranger, Joy, Hath signed the solemn contract. To his new mansion.

Marg. Solemn trifles! Marg: Yes, my faithful Clifford,

Mere cobweb ties—Love's a despotic tyrant, Fortune is weary of oppressing me:

And laughs, like other kings, at public faith, Through my dark cloud of grief a cheerful ray When it opposes private happiness : Of light breaks forth, and gilds the whole horizon, Edward is youthful, gay, and amorous; Clif. Henry in chains, and Edward on the | His soul is ever open to the lure throne

Of beauty; and Elizabeth hath charms
Of Lancaster; thyself a prisoner here;

Might shake a hermit's virtue.
Thy captive son torn from his mother's arms, Clif. Hath he seen
And in the tyrant's power; a kingdom lost: This peerless fair one?
Amidst so many sorrows, what new hope

Marg. Yes-by my contrivance,
Hath wrought this wondrous change?

When last he hunted in the forest, some, Marg. That, which alone,

Whom I had planted there, as if by chance In sorrow's bitterest hour, can minister

Alone directed, led him cross the lawn Sweet comfort to the daughters of affliction, To Grafton. There, even as my soul had wished, And bid misfortune smile the hope of vengeance: 1 The dazzling lustre of her charms surprised Vengeance ! benignant patron of distress, His unsuspecting heartThee I have oft invoked, propitious now

Clif. What followed ? Thou smil'st upon me; if I do not grasp

Marg. Oh! The glorious opportunity, henceforth

He gazed and wondered; for awhile his pride Indignant frown, and leave me to my fate! Indignant rose, and struggled with his passion,

Clif. Unhappy princess! that deceiver, Hope, But love was soon victorious: and last night, Hath often flattered, and as oft betrayed thee; The earl of Suffolk-so my trusty spies What hast thou gained by all its promises ? Inform me-was dispatched, on wings of love, What's the reward of all thy toils ?

To plead his master's cause, and offer her Marg. Experience

The throne of England.
Yes, Clifford, I have read the instructive volume Clif. What if she refuse
Of human nature, there long since have learned, | The golden bribe?
The way to conquer men is by their passions; I Marg. No matter; all I wish
Catch but the ruling foible of their hearts, Is but to make them foes : the generous Wa•
And all their boasted virtues shrink before you.

wick
Edward and Warwick, those detested names, Is fiery, and impatient of reproof;
Too well thou know'st, united to destroy me. He will not brook a rival in his love,
Clif. That was, indeed, a fatal league.

Though seated on a throne; besides, thou know':, Marg. But mark me;

The haughty earl looks down with scorn on Edo If we could break this adamantine chain,

ward, We might again be free: this mighty warrior, As the mere work of his all-powerful hand, This dread of kings, the unconquerable Warwick,

The baby monarch of his own creation. Is plighted to the fair Elizabeth.

Clif: Believe me, madam, Edward still revers Clif. The lady Gray, you mean, the beauteous And loves him ; still, as conscious of the debt, widow,

Pays him with trust and confidence; their sous Whose husband fell in arms for Lancaster? Are linked together in the strictest bonds Marg. The same, my Clifford-Warwick long Of sacred friendship. has loved

Marg. That but serves my cause: Clif. And means to wed her

Where ties are close, and interests united, Murg. But if I have art,

The slightest injuries are severely felt; Or she ambition, that shall never ben

Offended friendship never can forgive. Clif. Canst thou prevent it?

Clif. Now the full prospect opens to my view; Marg. Yes, my Clifford; Warwick

I see thy distant aim, and trace the paths Were a mean choice for such transcendent beauty; || Of vengeance : England soon will be a scene

Of blood and horror; discord's fatal torch | I grant it—from this moment you are free; Once lit up in this devoted land,

But for your son, I cannot part with him, What power shall e'er extinguish it? Alas! Marg. I scorn your bounties, scorn your prof. I tremble at the consequence.

fered freedom. Marg. And I

What's liberty to me without my child? Enjoy it :-Oh! 'twill be a noble contest But fate will place us soon above thy reach: of pride 'gainst pride, oppression 'gainst oppres | Thy short-lived tyranny is almost past, sion;

The storm is gathering round thee, and will burst Rise but the storm, and let the waves beat high, With tenfold vengeance on thy guilty head. The wreck may be our own: in the warm struggle, Edw. I am not to be talked into submission, Who knows but one or both of them may fall, Nor dread the menace of a clamorous woman. And Margaret rise triumphant on their ruin ! Marg. Thou may'st have cause to dread a woIt must be so; and see the king approaches :

man's power. This way he passes from the council-Mark The time may come-mark my prophetic word His downcast eye! he is a stricken deer,

When wayward beauty shall repay with scorn The arrow's in his side-he cannot ’scape : Thy fruitless vows, and vindicate my wrongs : We'll meet and speak to him.

The friend thou lean'st on, like a broken reed, Clif. What mean you, madam?

Shall pierce thy side, and fill thy soul with anMarg. To ask him—what, I know, he will re

guish, fuse;

Keen as the pangs I feel: York's perjured house That gives me fair pretext to break with him, Shall sink to rise no more, and Lancaster And join the man I hate, vindictive Warwick. With added lustre reassume the throne, But soft, he comes

Hear this and tremble-give me back my son

Or dread the vengeance of a desperate mother. Enter King EDWARD, and an Officer.

(Exit MARGARET. Edw. Is Suffolk yet returned? (To an Officer. |. Edw. Imperious woman! but the voice of woe Offi. No, my good liege.

Is ever clamorous: 'tis the privilege, Edw. Go, wait and bring him to me.

The charter of affliction to complain.

(Exit Offi. This tardy Suffolk! how I long to know, I'll to my closet. Pardon me, fair lady,

Yet dread to hear my fate! Elizabeth, I saw you not.

On thee the colour of my future life Mary. Perhaps it is beneath

Depends, for thou alone canst make me blest, A conqueror to look down upon his slave; | Or cursed for ever! O! this cruel doubt But I've a boon to ask.

Is worse than all my tortures: but he comes, Edw. Whate'er it is,

The ambassador of love.
Within the limits of fair courtesy,
Which honour can bestow, I'll not refuse thee.

Enter the Earl of SUFFOLK.
Murg. There was a time, when Margaret of | What news, my Suffolk?
Anjou

Shall I be happy? O! I'm on the rack
Would not have deigned to ask of Edward'aught ; | Of expectation! Didst thou tell my tale
Nor was there aught, which Edward dared re- | As if it were thy own, and may I hope
fuse her ;

Suf. My royal liege-
But that is past, great Warwick's arm prevailed, | Edw. Good Suffolk, lay aside
And I am now your prisoner.

The forms of dull respect; be brief, and tell me, Edw. Since the hour,

Speak, hast thou seen her? Will she be my When fortune shone propitious on the cause

queen? Of justice, and gave victory to our arms,

Quick, tell me every circumstance, each word, You have been treated with all due respect, Each look, each gesture : didst thou mark them, served like a queen, and lodged within our pa

Suffolk? lace:

Suf. I did, and will recount it all: last night, s there aught more, you can, with reason, ask, By your command, in secret I repaired Dr I, in prudence, grant you?

To Grafton's tufted bower, the happy seat Marg. Give me back

Of innocence and beauty; there I found "he liberty I lost-restore my son,

Thy soul's best hope, the fair Elizabeth; nd I may then, perhaps, be reconciled

Ne'er did these eyes behold such sweet pero an usurper, may withhold my vengeance,

fection! .nd let thee sit unpunished on--my throne. I found her busied in the pious office Eda. You ask too proudly, madam; but to Of filial duty, tending her sick father. shew you

Edw. That was a lucky inoment, to prefer cannot fear, you have your liberty.

My humble suit: touch but the tender string etters this morning I received from France, Of soft compassion in the heart, and love ave offered noble ransom for your person; Will quickly vibrate to its kindred passion; Tithout that ransom-for the soul of Edward | You urged our royal purpose, then? far above the sordid lust of gold,

Suf. I did,