When Hymen joins your hands, and music's voice Calm as the sleeping seas! but should my fighs
Makes the glad echoes of thy domes rejoice, Too rudely breathe, what angry storms would
Then shall Dione force the crowded ball,

rife:

(crowa'd,
Kneel at thy feet, and loud for justice call : Though the fair rose with beauteous blush ia
Could you behold her weltering on the ground, Beneath her fragrant leaves the thorn is found;
The purple dagger reeking from the wound; The peach, that with inviting crimson blooms,
Could you, unmov'd, this dreadful fight survey? Deep at the heart the cankering worm consumeaz
Such fatal scenes shall ftain the bridal day. 'Tis thus, alas: those lovely features hide
Lycidas.

Disdain and anger and resentful pride,
The horrid thought finks deep into my soul,
And down my cheek unwilling forrows roll.

SCENE II.
Dione
From this new fame you may as yet recede,

LYCIDAS, DIONE, PARTHENIA,
Or have yon doom'd that guiltless maid shall
bleed?

Lycidas.
Lycidas.

Hath proffer'd greatneis yet o'ercome her hate

And does the languish for the glittering bait?
Name her no morç.-Halte, seek the sylvan fair.
Dione.

Against the (wain she might her pride fupports

Can the subdue her sex, and scorn a court?
Should the rich proffer tempt her listening ear,
Bid all your piece adieu. O, barbarvus youth,

Perhaps in dreams the fbining vision charms,
Can you forego your honour, love, and truch?

And the rich bracelet sparkles on her arms; Yet should Parthenia wealth and title night,

In fancy'd heaps the golden treasure glows: Would justice then restore Dione's right?

Parthenia, wake; all this thy (wain beltows,

Dione.
Would you then dry her ever-falling iears ;
And bless with honeh love your future years?

Sleeps she in these close bowers?
Lycilas.

Lycidas,
I'll in yon shade thy wilh'd return artend;

-Lo! there she lies,

Dione. Cume, quickly come, and cheer thy fighing friend.

[Exit Lycidas. O may do startling sound unseal her eyes, Dione.

And drive her hence away. 'Till now, in vain Should her proud soul relitt the tempting bait,

I god the winding wood and weary plain. Should the contemn his proffer'd wealth and state ; Hence, Lycidas ; beyond those shades reposca Then I once more his perjur'd heart may move,

While I thy fortune and thy birch disclose. And in his bolom wake the dying love.

Lycidas. As the pale wretch involv'd in doubts and fears,

May I Parthenia to thy friendship owe? All trembling in the judgment-hall appears ;

Dione, So shall I fand before Parthenia's eyes,

rather think on loft Dione's woe ! For as the dooms, Dione lives or dies.

Must the thy broken faith for ever mourn,
And will that juster passion ne'er return?

Lyridar. .

Upbraid me not; but go. Her slumbers chale;
ACT IV. SCENE I.

And in her view che bright temptation place.

(Exit Lycidas, LYCIDAS, PARTHENIA, afeep in a Bower.

SCENE III,
Lycidas.
Mas no rude wind the rustling branches move;

Dione, PARTHENIA.
Breathe soft, ye filent gales, nor wake my love..
Ye thepherds, piping homeward on the way,

Dione.
Let not the diflaut echoes learn your lay; Now flames the western sky with golden beams,
Scrain pnt, ye nightingales, your warbling throat, And he ray kindles on the quivering streams;
May no loud thake prolong the fhriller note, Long flights of crows, high-croaking from their
Left she awake; O Deep, fecure her eyes,

food,
That I may gaze; for, if she wake, the fies. Now seek the nightly covert of the wood;
While easy dreams compose her peaceful soul, The tender grats with dewy crystal bends,
What anxious cares within my bofom roll: And gathering vapour from the heath ascends.
Il tir'd with fighs beneath the beech I lie, Shake off this downy rest; wake, gentle maid,
And languid number close my weeping eye, Trust not thy charms beneath the boxious fhade.
Her lovely vision rises to my view,

Parthenia, rile.
Swift flies the nynıph, and swift would I pursue ;

Partbenia.
I strive to call, my tongue has lost its found;

- What voice alarms my ear?
Like rooted oaks, my fece benumb'd are bound; Away. Approach not. Hah! Alexis there :
Struggling I wake. Again my sorrows flow, Let us together to the vales descend,
And not one flattering dream deludes my woe. And to the folds our bleating charge attend;
What innocence: how meek is every grace! But let me hear no more that shepherd's name,
How sweet the finile that dimples on her face, Vcx not my quiet with his hateful damc.

Pione.

The gazing flock, all envious of her pride, Can I behold him gasping on the ground, Behold het skipping by the priestess' lide; And seek no healing herb to staunch the wound? Each hopes the flowery wreath with longing eyes; For thee continual sighs consume his heart, While the, alas! is led to sacrifice ! 'Tis you alone can cure the bleeding smart. Thus walks the bride in all her state array'd, Once more I come the moving cause to plead, The gaze and envy of each thoughtless maid. If ftill his sufferings cannot intercede,

Dione. Yet let my friendship do his paffion right, As yet her tongue resists the tempting snare, And show thy lover in his native light.

And guards my panting bosom from despair. Parthenia,

Afide.
Why in dark mystery are thy words involv'd ? Can thy strong foul this noble flame forego ?
If Lycidas you mean; know, I'm refolv'd. Must such a lover waste his life in woc?
Dione.

Paribenia.
Let not thy kindling rage my words restrain. Tell him, his gifts I scorn; not all his art,
Know then, Parthenia flights no vulgar (wain. Not all his flattery shall seduce my heart.
For thee he bears the scrip and fylvan crook, Courtiers, I know, are disciplin'd to cheat,
For thee the glories of a court forsook.

Their infant lips are taught to lisp deceit ; May not thy heart the wealthy flame decline! To prey on easy nymphs they range the shade, His honours, his poffeflions, all are thine.

And vainly boast of innocence betray'd;
Parthenia.

Chalte hearts, unlearn'd in falsehood, they assail, If he's a courtier, Oye nymphs, beware;

And think our car will drink the grateful tale.
Those who most promise are the least sincere. No. Lycidas shall ne'er my peace destroy,
The quick-ey'd hawk shoots headlong from above, I'll guard my virtue, and content enjoy.
And in his pounces bears the trembling dove ;

Dione.
The pilfering wolf o'erleaps the fold's defence. So strong a pallion in my bosom burns,
But the false courtier preys on innocence.

Whene'er his soul is griev'd, Alexis mourns !
If he's a courtier, O ye nymphs, beware : Canst thou this importuning ardor blame? (lame?
Those who most promise are the least lincere. Would not thy tongue for friendship urge the
Dione.

Parthenia. Alas! thou ne'er haft prov'd the sweets of state, Yes, blooming (wain. You fhow an honest mind; Nor known that female pleasure, to be great. I see it, with the purest flame refin'd. 'Tis for the town ripe clutters load the poles, Who shall compare love's mean and gross desire And all our autumn crowns the courrier's bowls ; To the chaste zeal of friendship's sacred fire ? For him our woods the rod-ey'd pheasant breed, By whining love our weakness is confeft: And annual coveys in our harvest feed;

But stronger friendship shows a virtuous breast.
For him with fruit the bending branch is stor'd, In folly's heart the short-liv'd blaze may glow,
Plenty pours all her blessings on his board. Wisdom alone can purer friendship know.
If (when the market to the city calls)

Love is a sudden blaze which foon decays,
We chance to pass befide his palace-walls, Friendship is like the sun's eternal rays;
Does not his hall with mufic's voice resound, Not daily benefits exhaust the flame,
And the floor tremble with the dancer's bound? It fill is giving, and still burns the same;
Such are the pleasures Lycidas shall give,

And could Alexis from his soul remove
When thy relenting bosom bids him live.

All the low images of grosser love;
Parthenia.

Such mild, such gentle looks thy heart declare,
See yon gay goldfinch hop from spray to spray, Fain would my breast thy faithful friendship share.
Who sings a farewell to the parting day;

Dione. At large he flies o'er hill and dale and down ; How dare you in the different sex confide? Is not each bush, each spreading tree his own? And leck a friendship which you ne'er have try'd ? And canst thou think he'll quit his native brier,

Parthenia.
For the bright cage o'er-arch'd with golden wire? Yes, I to thee could give up all my heart.
What then are honours, pomp and gold to me? From thy chaste cye no wanton glances dart;
Are those a price to purchase liberty?

Thy modest lips convey no thought impure,
Dione.

With thçe may strictest virtue walk secure.
Think, when the Hymeneal torch thall blaze,

Dione. And on the solemn rites the virgins gaze ;

Yet can I safely on the nymph depend, When thy fair locks with glittering gems are Whose unrelenting scorn can kill my friend ! grac'd,

Parthenia.
And the bright zone fall sparkle round thy waist; Accuse me not, who act a generous part ;
How will their hearts with envious sorrow pine,

Had I, like city maids, a fraudful heart,
When Lycidas hall join his hand to thine ! Then had his proffers taught my soul to feign,
Parthenia.

Then had I vilely floopt to fordid gain, And yet, Alexis, all that pomp and show

Then had I figh'd for honours, pomp and gold, Are oft the varnish of internal woe.

And for unhappy chains my freedom fold. When the chaste lamb is from her fifters led, If you would save him, bid him leave the plais, And interwoven garlande pajac ker head;

And to his native city turn again ;

There, thall his passion find a ready cure,

Lycidas. There not one dame reßfts the glittering lurc.

-Could thy guarded heart, Dione.

When her full

beauty glow'd, put by the dart ? All this I frequent urg'd, but urg'd in vain. Yet on Alexis let my soul depend; Alas! thou only cans assuage his pain!

'Tis most ungenerous to suspect a friend.

And thou, I hope, hast well that name profeft, SCENE IV.

Dione.

O could thy piercing eye discern my breast ! DIONE, PARTHENIA, LYCIDAS.

Could'At thou the secrets of my bosom see,

There every thought is fill'd with cares for thee. Lycidas, (Listening,

Lycidas. Why stays Alexis ? can my bosom bear

Is there, against hypocrisy, defence. Thus long alternate forms of hope and fear?

Who clothes her words and looks with innocence ! Yonder they walk; no frowns her brow disguilc,

[fide Bue love-consenting sparkles in her eyes;

Say, shepherd, when you proffer'd wealth and Here will I listen, here, impatient wait.

Itate,
Spare me, Parchenia, and resign thy hatc. (Afade.

Did not her scorn and suppled pride abate ?
Parthenia.

Dione.
When Lycidas shall to the court repair,
Still let Alexis love his fleecy care;

A: sparkling diamonds to the feather'd train,

Who scrape the winnow'd chaff in search of grain ;
Still let hin choose cool grots and sylvan bowers, Such to the shepherdess the court appears :
And let Parthenia share his peaceful hours. Content she seeks, and spurns those glittering cares,
Lycidas.

Lycidas.
What do I hear? my friendship is betray'd; 'Tis not in woman grandeur to despise,
The treacherous rival has seduc'd the maid.

'Tis not from courts, from me alone the flies, [Afide.

Did not my pallion suffer like disgrace,
Parthenia.

While she believ'd me born of sylvan race?
With thee, where bearded goats descend the steep,

Dost thou not think, this proudest of her kind Or where, like winter's snow, the nibbling sheep

Has to some rival swain her heart relign'd? Clothe the flope hills ; I'll pass the cheerful day,

Dione.
And from thy reed my voice shall catch the lay.

No rival shepherd her disdain can move;
But see, ftill evening spreads her dusky wings, Her frozen bosom is a verse to love.
The flock, flow-moving from the misty springs,

Lycidas.
Now seek their fold. Come, shepherd, let’s away,
Tu close the latest labours of the day.

Say, art thou sure, that this ungrateful fair

Scorns all alike, bids all alike despair ? (Exeunt hand in hand.

Dione.

How can I know the secrets of her heart?
SCENE V.

Lycidas.
LYCIDAS.

Answer fincere, nor from the queftion starts

Say, in her glance was never love confelt, My troubled heart what dire disasters rend? And is no swain distinguish'd from the rest ? A scornful mistress, and a treacherous friend!

Dione.
Would ye be cozen'd, more than woman can, O Lycidas, bid all thy troubles cease ;
Unlock your boson to perfidious man.

Let not a chought on her disturb thy peaces
One faithful woman have these eyes beheld, May justice bid thy former passion wake;
And against her this perjur'd heart rebellid: Think how Dione suffers for thy fake :
But search as far as earth's wide bounds extend, Let not a broken oath thy honour stain,
Where shall the wretched find one faithful friend? Recal thy vows, and seek the town again.

Lycidas.
SCENE VI.

What means Alexis? where's thy friendship flown!

Why am I banish'd to the hateful town?
LYCIDAS, D10NE.

Hath some new shepherd warm'd Parthenia's

breast ? Lycidas.

And does my love his amorous hours moleft? Why starts the swain ? why turn his eyes away, Is it for this thou bid'at me quic the plain? As if amidst his path the viper lay?

Yes, yes, thou fondly lov'st this rival Twain.
Did I not to thy charge my heart confide? When firit my cheated soul thy friendship woo'd,
Did I not trust thee near Parthenia's fide, To my warm heart I took the viperous brood,
As here the dept?

O falle Alcxis:
Dione.

Dione.
She fraight my call obey'd,

-Why am I accusid?
And downy Number left the lovely maid ; Thy jealous mind is by weak fears abus'd.
As in the morn awakes the folded rose,

Lycidas. And all around her breathing odour throws; Was not thy bosom fraught with false design? po wak'd Parthenia,

Did thou got plead his cause, and give up mioc

Let not thy tongue evasive answer feek;

O lead me to the hanging mountain's cell, The conscious crimson rises on thy cheek : In whose brown cliffs the fowls of darkness dwell; Thy.coward conscience, by thy guilt dismay'd, Where waters, trickling down the rifted wall, Shakes in each joint, and owns that I'm betray'd. Shall lull my sorrows with the tinkling fall. Dione.

There seek thy grave. How canst thou bear the How my poor heart is wrong'd! O spare thy light, friend!

When banish'd ever from Evander's sight!
Lycidas.
Seck not detected falsehood to defend.

SCENE VIIT.
Dione.
Beware, lest blind suspicion rafhly blame.

DIONE, LAURA,
ycidas.

Laura.
Own thyself then the rival of my flame.
I this be the for whom Alexis pin'd,

Why hangs a cloud of grief upon thy brows ? She now no more is to thy vows unkind,

Does the proud nymph accept Evander's vows?

Dione. Behind the thicket's twisted verdure laid,

Can I bear life with these new pangs opprest! I witness'd every tender thing she said;

Again he tears me from his faithless breast :
I saw bright pleasure kindle in her eyes,
Love warm'd each feature at thy soft replics.

A perjur'd lover firft he sought these plains,
Dione.

And now my friendship like my love disdailis.

As I new offers to Parthenia made, Yet hear me speak.

Conccal'd he stood behind the woodbine shade. Lgcidas. in vain is all defence.

He says, my treacherous tongue his heart betray'd, Did not thy treacherous hand conduct her hence?

That my false speeches have misled the maid; Hafte, fruid my fight. Rage burns in every vein;

With groundless fear he thus his soul deceives; Never approach my just revenge again.

Wbat trenzy dictates, jealousy believes.

Laura.
Dione.
O search my heart; there injur'd truth thou'lt find. Resign thy crook, put off this manly velt,
I gcidas.

And let the wrong'd Dione ftand confeft;

When he shall learn what forrows thou hast borne, Talk not of truth; long since she left mankind.

And find that nought relents Parthenia's (corn, So fmooth a congue! and yet so false a heart !

Sure he will pity thee. Sure courts first caught thee fawning friendship's

Dione. arts !

-No, Laura, no.
No. Thou art false by nature.

Should I, alas! the fylvan dress forego,
Dione.

Then might he think that I her pride foment,
-Let me clear

That injur'd love instructs me to resent;
This heavy charge, and prove my trust fincere.

Our secret enterprise might fatal prove :
Lycidas.

Man flies the plague of persecuting love.
Boast tben her favours; say what happy hour

Laura. Next calls to meet her in the appointed bower;

Avoid Parthenia ; left his rage grow warm, Bay, when and where you met. Dione.

And jealousy resolve some fatal harm.

Dione.
-Be rage suppreft.

O Laura, if thou chance the youth to find,
In stabbing mine, you wound Parthenia's breast.
She said, ie ftill defy'd Love's keenest dart ;

Tell him what torments vex my anxious mind;

Should I once more his awful presence feek, Yet purer friendship might divide her heart,

The Glent tears would bathe my glowing cheek; Friendfhip's fincerer bands the wish'd to prove. Lycidas.

By rising fighs my faultering voice be stay'd,

And trembling fear too soon confess the maid. A woman's friendfhip ever ends in love.

Halte, Laura, then; his vengeful soul affuage, Think not these foolish tales my faith command;

Tell him, I'm guiltless ; cool his blinded rage; Did not I see thee press her snowy hand ?

Tell him that truth sincere my friendship brought, O may her paflion like thy friendship last !

Let him not cherith one suspicious thought.
May the betray thee ere a day be past :

Then, to convince him his distrust was vain,
Hence then. Away. Thou'rt hateful to my fight,
And thus I spurn the fawning hypocrite.

I'll never, never see that nymph again.

This way he went. (Exit Lycidas,

Laura.

-See, at the call of night,
SCENE VII.

The star of evening sheds his filver light
Dione.

High o'er yon western hill: the cooling gales Was ever grief like mine! O wretched maid ! Fresh odours breathe along the winding dales; My friendship wrong'd! my constant love betray'd! Far from their home as yet our faepherds Aray, Misfortune haunts my steps where'er I go,

To close with cheerful walk the sultry day. And all my days are overcast with wo.

Methinks from far I hear the piping (wain ; Long have I drove th' increasing load to bear, Hark, in the breeze now swells, now finks the Now faints my soul, and finks into despair.

frain:

Thither I'll seek him.

Far o'er the plains I fought a beauteous maid,
Dione.

Who, from the court, in these wide forests stray'd;
-While this length of glade Wanders unknown; as 1, with weary pain,
Shall lead me pensive through the sable shade; Try'd every path, and opening glade, in vain ;
Where on the branches murmur rushing winds, A band of thieves, forth rushing from the wood
Grateful as falling floods to love-fick minds; Unsheath'd their daggers warm with daily blood;
O may this path to death's dark vale descend ! Deep in my breast the barbarous steel is dy'd,
There oply can the wretched hope a friend. And purple hands the golden prey divide. [lwain,

[Ex. Severally. Hence are these mangling wounds. Say, gentis

If thou hast known among the fylvan train
The vagrant nymph I fcek?

Dione.
ACT V. SCENE I.

- What mov'd thy care,

Thus, in these pathless wilds, to search the fair? A Wood.

Cleantbes. Dione, CLEANTHES / who lies wounded in a diftant I charge you, O ye daughters of the grove, part of the stage).

Ye Naïads, who the mosly fountains love,

Ye happy swains; who range the pastures wide, Dione.

Ye tender nymphs, who feed your flocks befide;
Taz moon serene now climbs th' aerial way; If my last gasping breath can pity move,
Bee, at her fight ten thousand stars decay : If e'er ye knew the pangs of lighted love,
With trembling gleam fhe tips the filent grove, Show her, I charge you, where Cleanthes dy'd;
While all beneath the chequer'd shadows move. The grass yet reeking with the sanguine tide.
Turn back thy filver axles, downward roll, A father's power to me the virgin gave,
Darkness best fits the horrors of my soul.

But she disdain'd to live a nuptial lave;
Rise, rise, ye clouds: the face of heaven deform, So fled her native home.
Veil the bright goddess in a sable storm :

Dione.
O look not down upon a wretched maid !

-'Tis then from thee Let thy bright torch the happy lover aid,

Springs the foul source of all her misery And light his wandering footsteps to the bower Could'A thou, thy felfish appetite to please, Where the kind nymph attends th' appointed hour. Condemn to endless woes another's peace ? Yet thou hast seen unhappy love like mine;

Cleantbes. Did not thy lamp in heaven's blue forehead shine, O spare me; nor my hapless love upbraid, When Thisbe sought her love along the glade ? While on my heart death's frozen hand is laid: Did it thou not then behold the gleaming blade, Go, seek her, guide her where Cleanthes bled; And gild that fatal point that fabb'd her breast? When the surveys her lover pale and dead, Soon i, like her, thall seek the realms of rett. Tell her, that, since she fled my hateful fight, Let groves of mournful yew a wretch surround ! Without remorse I fought the realms of night. O fouthe my ear with melancholy found! Methinks I see her view these poor remains, The village-curs now stretch their yelling throat, And on her cheek indecent gladness reigns ! And dogs from diftant cots return the note; Full in her presence cold Cleanthes lies, The ravci.ous wolf along the valley prowls, And not one tear ftands trembling in her eyes! And with his famili'd cries the mountain howls. O let a sigh my hapless fate deplore ! But hark! what suduen noise advances near? Cleanthes now controuls thy love no more. Repeated groans alarm my affrighted ear !

Dione.

(Afide. Cleantbes.

How shall my lids confine these riling woes? Shepherd, approach; ah: fly not through the

Cleantbes. glade.

O might I see her, ere death's finger close A wretch all dy'd with wounds invokes thy aid. Thefe eyes forever! might her folten'd breast Diane.

Forgive my love with too much ardour preft! Say then, unhappy stranger, how you bled; Then I with peace could yield my latest breathe Collca thy fpirits, raise thy drooping bcad.

Divne. (Cleanthes raises bim If on bis arm. Shall I not calm the fable hour of death, O horrid light! Cleanthes gatping lies;

And show myself before him! -Ha: he dies. And death', black shadows float before his eyes. See from his trembling lip the spirit flies! (afide, Unknown in this disguise, I'll check my wo, Stay yet a while. Dione lands confelt. And learn what bloody hand has ftruck the blow. He knows me not. He faints, he finks to rest.

[ Afide.

Cleantbes. Say, youth, ere fate thy feeble voice confounds, Tell her, since all my hopes in her were lost, What led chee hither? whence these purple wounds? That death was welcome

(Dies, Cleanibes.

Dione. Stay, Aeeting life; may ftrength a while prevail, What fudder gults of grief my bosom rend: Leit my clos'd lips confine th' imperfect cale. A parent's curses o'er my head impend, Ere the Atseak'ü east grew warni with amber ray, For disobedient vows; ó wretched maid, I from the city took my doubtful waji

Those very vows Erander hath betray'd.