English

SCENE III.

DIONE. PARTHENIA. LYCIDAS.

LYCIDAS.

If Laura right direct the darksome ways,
Along these paths the pensive shepherd strays.

DIONE.

Let not a tear for me roll down thy cheek.
O would my throbbing sighs my heart-strings break!
Why was my breast the lifted stroke deny'd?
Must then again the deathful deed be try'd?
Yes. 'Tis resolv'd.

PARTHENIA.

— — — Ah, hold; forbear, forbear!

LYCIDAS.

SCENE II.

DIONE. PARTHENIA.

PARTHENIA

Sweet is the walk when night has cool'd the hour.
This path directs me to my sylvan bower.

DIONE.

Why is my soul with sudden fear dismay'd!
Why drops my trembling hand the pointed blade?
O string my arm with force!

PARTHENIA.

— — — Methought a noise
Broke through the silent air, like human voice.

DIONE.

One well-aim'd blow shall all my pangs remove,

ACT V. SCENE I.

A Wood.

DIONE, CLEANTHES, (who lies wounded in a distant part of the stage.)

DIONE.

The Moon serene now climbs th' aerial way;
See, aTher sight ten thousand stars decay:
With trembling gleam she tips the silent grove,
While all beneath the checquer'd shadows move.
Turn back thy silver axies, downward roll.
Darkness best fits the horrors of my soul.
Rise, rise, ye clouds; the face of heav'n deform,
Veil the bright Goddess in a sable storm:

SCENE VIII.

DIONE. LAURA.

LAURA.

Why hangs a cloud of grief upon thy brows?
Does the proud nymph accept Evander 's vows?

DIONE.

Can I bear life with these new pangs opprest!
Again he tears me from his faithless breast:
A perjur'd Lover first he sought these plains,
And now my friendship like my love disdains,
As I new offers to Parthenia made,
Conceal'd he stood behind the woodbine shade.
He says, my treach'rous tongue his heart betray'd,

SCENE VII.

DIONE.

Was ever grief like mine! O wretched maid!
My friendship wrong'd! my constant love betray'd!
Misfortune haunts my steps where-e'er I go,
And all my days are over-cast with woe.
Long have I strove th' encreasing load to bear,
Now faints my soul, and sinks into despair.
O lead me to the hanging mountain's cell,
In whose brown cliffs the fowls of darkness dwell;
Where waters, trickling down the rifted wall,
Shall lull my sorrows with the tinkling fall.

SCENE VI.

LYCIDAS. DIONE.

LYCIDAS.

Why starts the swain? why turn his eyes away,
As if amidst his path the viper lay?
Did I not to thy charge my heart confide?
Did I not trust thee near Parthenia 's side,
As here she slept?

DIONE.

— — — She strait my call obey'd,
And downy slumber left the lovely maid;
As in the morn awakes the folded rose,
And all around her breathing odour throws;
So wak'd Parthenia .

LYCIDAS.

SCENE V.

LYCIDAS.

My troubled heart what dire disasters rend!
A scornful mistress, and a treach'rous friend!
Would ye be cozen'd, more than woman can;
Unlock your bosom to perfidious man.
One faithful woman have these eyes beheld,
And against her this perjur'd heart rebell'd:
But search as far as earth's wide bounds extend,
Where shall the wretched find one faithful friend?

I have a lot to say about myself,
Anent low matters centering in pelf?

Linati, that fine critic of Milan,
Surveying authors " americo-anglican",
Treats of Your's Truly in a sensible way.
A " poeta maladetto" of today
Am I: he notes the suppressive tendency,
As what outsider would not? " Anthology
Excludes him", I am even excluded too
From all official mention — all except Who's Who .
I am an " outcast" and a man " maudit".
But how romantic! Don't you envy me?
A sort of Villon, bar the gallows: but
Even there I may be accommodated yet.
Why yes it's very jolly to be picked

SCENE III.

DIONE. PARTHENIA.

DIONE.

Now flames the western skie with golden beams,
And the ray kindles on the quiv'ring streams;
Long flights of crows, high-croaking from their food,
Now seek the nightly covert of the wood;
The tender grass with dewy crystal bends,
And gath'ring vapour from the heath ascends.
Shake off this downy rest; wake, gentle maid,
Trust not thy charms beneath the noxious shade.
Parthenia , rise.

PARTHENIA.

SCENE II.

LYCIDAS. DIONE. PARTHENIA.

LYCIDAS.

Hath proffer'd greatness yet o'ercome her hate?
And does she languish for the glitt'ring bait?
Against the swain she might her pride support.
Can she subdue her sex, and scorn a Court?
Perhaps in dreams the shining vision charms,
And the rich bracelet sparkles on her arms;
In fancy'd heaps the golden treasure glows:
Parthenia wake; all this thy swain bestows.

DIONE.

Sleeps she in these close bowers?