Dion. It was an idle tale I told to thee! He is as free to come, or stay, as are the winds! Pyth. Ha! were it possible!-may he yet come !— [Ascending the scaffold, and looking off.

I have taken in

All the horizon's vast circumference
That, in the glory of the setting sun,
Opens its wide expanse, yet do I see
No signal of his coming! I could die
Unmoved, by Dionysius-but to be torn
Green from existence by the friend I loved,—
Thus from the blossoming and beauteous tree
Rent by the treachery of him I trusted!

No! no! I wrong thee, Damon, by that half thought-
Shame on the foul suspicion! he hath a wife,

And child, who cannot live on earth without him,

And heaven has flung some obstacle in his way

To keep him back, and lets me die, who am

Less worthy, and so fitter.

Dion. By all the gods, there are two minutes only left! Proc. Pythias, advance

And look your last upon the setting sun—

Your hour comes on!

Pyth. Farewell, Calanthe! O my blessed bride!

Take her, eternal gods,

Out of my arms into your own! Befriend her,

And let her life glide on in gentleness,

For she is gentle, and doth merit it.

Dam. Your duty, officer.

Pyth. Nay, sir, you may spare

[Officer approaches him.

[Drawing the lining of his tunic lower.

Yourself the pains to fit me for the block.—

Damon, I do forgive thee !-I but ask

Some tears unto my ashes!

Dion. Forbear!

There is a minute left; look there! look there!

But 'tis so far off, and the evening shades

Thicken so fast ;-and yet, 'tis there! I see it.—

[A distant shout is heard, R. Pythias leaps up on the scaffold.

By the gods,

A horse and horseman !-Far upon the hill,
They wave their hats, and he returns it—yet
I know him not-his horse is at the stretch!
Why should they shout as he comes on? It is-

[A shout, R.

O life! I scarcely dare to wish for thee;

And yet—that jutting rock has hid him from me—
No-let it not be Damon !-he has a wife
And child!-gods!—keep him back!—
Damon. [without, R.] Where is he!

[Shouts, R.

DAMON rushes in, R., and stands for a moment, looking

Ha!

He is alive! untouched!

round.

Ha! ha! ha!

[Falls, with an hysterical laugh, upon the stage.—Three
loud shouts without.

Pyth. The gods do know I could have died for him!
And yet I dared to doubt!-I dared to breathe
The half-uttered blasphemy!

He faints!-How thick

[Damon is raised up.

This wreath of burning moisture on his brow!
His face is black with toil, his swelling bulk

Heaves with swift pantings. Damon, my dear friend!
Damon. Where am I? Have I fallen from my horse,
That I am stunned, and on my head I feel

A weight of thickening blood!-What has befallen me?
The horrible confusion of a dream

Is yet upon my sight.-For mercy's sake,

Stay me not back-he is about to die!

Pythias, my friend! Unloose me, villains, or

You'll find the might of madness, in mine arm!

[Sees Pythias.] Speak to me, let me hear thy voice!

Pyth. My friend!

Damon. It pierced my brain, and rushed into my heart! There's lightning in it! That's the scaffold-there!

The block-the axe-the executioner!

And here he lives!-I have him in my soul!
[Embraces Pythias.] Ha! ha! ha!
Pyth. Damon!

Damon. Ha! ha!

I can but laugh!-I cannot speak to thee!

I can but play the maniac, and laugh!

Thy hand!-Oh, let me grasp thy manly hand!—

It is an honest one, and so is mine!

They are fit to clasp each other! Ha! ha! ha!

Pyth. Would that my death could have preserved thee! Damon. Pythias,

Even in the very crisis to have come

To have hit the very forehead of old Time!

By heavens! had I arrived an hour before,

I should not feel this agony

of joy

This triumph over Dionysius!

Ha! ha!—But did'st thou doubt me? Come, thou did'stOwn it, and I'll forgive thee.

Pyth. For a moment.

Damon. Oh, that false slave !-Pythias, he slew my horse, In the base thought to save me! I would have killed him, And to a precipice was dragging him,

When, from the very brink of the abyss,

I did behold a traveller afar,

Bestriding a good steed-I rushed upon him,
Choking with desperation, and yet loud
In shrieking anguish, I commanded him
Down from his saddle: he denied me-but
Would I then be denied? as hungry tigers
Clutch their poor prey, I sprang upon his throat:
Thus, thus, I had him, Pythias! Come, your horse
Your horse, your horse, I cried. Ha! ha! ha!

Dion. [Advancing and speaking in a loud tone.] Damon! Damon. [Jumping on the scaffold.] I am here upon the scaffold! look at me:

I am standing on my throne; as proud a one
As yon illumined mountain, where the sun
Makes his last stand; let him look on me, too;
He never did behold a spectacle

More full of natural glory. Death is-[Shouts, R.] Ha!
All Syracuse starts up upon her hills,

And lifts her hundred thousand hands. [Shouts, R.] She

shouts,

[Shouts, R. Hark, how she shouts! [Shouts, R.] Oh, Dionysius ! When wert thou in thy life hailed with a peal Of hearts and hands, like that one! Shout again!

[Shouts, R.

Again! [Shouts, R.,] until the mountains echo you,
And the great sea joins in that mighty voice,

And old Enceladus, the Son of Earth,

Stirs in his mighty caverns. [Three shouts.] Tell me, slaves,
Where is your tyrant? Let me see him, now;

Why stands he hence aloof? Where is your master?
What is become of Dionysius?

I would behold, and laugh at him!

[Dionysius advances between Damon and PythiasDamon being on the scaffold-and throws off his disguise.

Dion. Behold me.

Damon and Pyth. How?

Dion. Stay your admiration for awhile,
Till I have spoken my commandment here.
Go, Damocles, and bid a herald cry

Wide through the city, from the eastern gate
Unto the most remote extremity,

That Dionysius, tyrant as he is,

Gives back his life to Damon.
Pyth. How, Dionysius.

Speak that again!

Dion. I pardon him.

Pyth. Oh, gods?

You give his life to Damon ?

Dion. Life and freedom!

[Exit Damocles, L.

[Shouts, drums, R. and L.-Damon staggers from the scaffold into the arms of Pythias.

Disposition of the Characters at the Fall of the Curtain.

Characters and Costumes :-COLONEL JACK THOROUGHFARE, black dress coat, white vest, black trousers, black silk neckerchief, gloves and rough paletot, muffler, travelling cap, &c. GRIFFIN, 1st. Dark blue trousers, white night cap, morning gown, no vest. 2d. Blue coat, gilt buttons, buff vest, white neckerchief and bald wig. BIFFIN, 1st. Night gown and night cap. 2d. Turkish costume, turban, &c.

SCENE.-Griffin's warehouse. Door L. of c. flat, leading to a street. Window R. of c. flat, with shutters. Doors in oblique R. 1 E. and 2d E. Door in L. 1 E. oblique. Long counter down c. with desk, pens, ink and paper. Pack ages of goods, calicoes, silks, &c., hung about.

At rising of curtain a loud ringing is heard at the street door-bell; the stage is quite dark.

Thoroughfare. [ Without D. in F. bawling.] Halloa! halloa! house-helps-niggers-boss, halloa! wake up, you critters! Griffin. Without R. 1 E.] Eh! who's that?

Mrs. Griffin. [Without R. 1 E.] Oh! dear! what's the matter?

Grif. [As before.] Somebody's ringing the warehouse bell, my dear.

Ringing again heard.

Thor. [As before.] Open the door! darnation crocodiles! Why don't you come?

Grif. [As before.] I'm coming, I'm coming; I must get my trousers on. [Enters hurriedly and confused, half asleep, from door R. 1 E., buttoning on the braces of his trousers; he has a white night cap on ;-feeling his way to the counter.] Where the dickens are the lucifers and candle? Thor. [Ringing again.] Hi! hi! Hurry up your cakes,

there!

Grif. Who are you? What do you want? [Lighting candle.]

Thor. [As before,] I'm burning-flaming!

Grif. [Agitated.] Mercy upon me! the house is on fire! Thor. [As before.] Make haste; I'm scorching to an almighty cinder!

Grif. I shan't be a second, Mr. Fireman; I'm only lighting a candle. [To himself. It's lucky my wife's deaf, or she'd be in hysterics.

Thor. [Continuing ringing.] Hi! hi! All aboard! Put on the steam! grease your wheels! look sharp!

Grif. [Unlocking and unbolting door L. in flat.] Here I am, fireman! here I am. [Opens door.]

Enter THOROUGHFARE with a cigar in his mouth, with overcoat, muffler, &c.

Grif. Why, this is not a fireman! [To him.] Who are you? What do you want?

Thor. I want to talk to you, I calculate.

Grif. Talk to me! why, what o'clock is it?

Thor. Hold the candle; let's look at my chronometer, [looks at his watch,] four to a minute.

Grif. Talk to me at four o'clock in the morning! [to himself] this is a thief. I'm going to be robbed.

Thor. Well, now, you see, I'm a fast train-high pressure— express-tell me at once, slap right away-are you the person? Grif. The person! what person?

Thor. The father-the papa, as you Europeans call it. Grif. [To himself.] It is some escaped lunatic-I shall be murdered.

Thor. You was at the Lord Mayor's dinner last night? Grif. Yes, but I don't see—