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-Would that treacherous boy Have forc'd thy virtue to his brutal joy? What rouz’d his pallion to this hold advance! Did e'er thy eyes confefs one willing glance ? I know, the faithless youth his trust betray’d; And well the dagger hath my wrongs repaid.
DIONE. (Raising herself on ber arm. Breaks not Evander's voice along the glade ? Ha ! is it he who t:olds the reeking blade ! There needed not or poison, sword, or dart; Thy faithless vows, alas ! had broke my heart. [ Afude.
O tremble, fhepherd, for thy raih cffence,
Into what mischiefs is the lover led,
What horrors on the guilty mind attend !
Did not the fmooth-tongu'd boy perfidious prove,
O let him ne'er this bleeding victim know;
ihe blow, Should in his dearer heart the dagger stain ! That wound would pierce my soul with double pain.
[ Afde. PARTHENÍ. How did his faithful lips (now pale and cold) With moving eloquence thy griefs unfold !
Was hc thus faithful ? thus, to friendship true?
peace of mind, adieu !
| Fiings bimself on the grcund near Dione. See at thy feet the barbarous villain kneel! 'Tis Lycielas who grasps the bloody iteel, Thv once-lov'd friend. Yet, ere I cease to live, Canft thou a wretched penitent forgive?
When low beneath the sable mould I rest,
Let o'er my grave the leveling plough-fhare pass,
SCENE THE LAST.
LYCIDAS, PARTHENIA, LAURA.
No rival shepherd is before thee laid ;
Of thy, once dear Dione ? With wap care
pure conftancy lies dead i
LYCIDAS. May heaven shower vengeance on this perjur'd head 1 As the dry branch that withers on the ground, So, blasted be the hand that
the wound ! Off; hold me not. This heart deserves the stroke; 'Tis black with treachery. Yes: the vows are broke
[Stabs bimself. Which I so often swore. Vain world, adieu ! Though I was false in life, in death I'm true.
To-morrow shall the funeral rites be paid,
From thence shall thyme and myrtle send perfume,,
Come, Laura, let us leave this horrid wood,
Come to my bower. And, as we sorrowing go,
Dione's story feed my woe
LAURA. [Pointing to Dione.
-Unhappy maid !
hadît liv'd. But who shall Love advise?