Was ever grief like mine! O wretched maid!
My friendship wrong'd! my constant love betray'd!
Misfortune haunts my steps where'er I go,
And all my days are overcast with woe.
Long have I strove th' increasing 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.
There seek thy grave. How canst thou bear the
When banish'd ever from Evander's sight! [light,

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,

Conreal'd he stood behind the woodbine shade.
He says, my treacherous tongue his heart betray'd,
That my false specches have misled the maid,
With groundless fear he thus his soul deceives;
What frenzy dictates, jealousy believes.

LAURA.

Resign thy crook, put off this manly vest,
And let the wrong'd Dione stand coufest;
When he shall learn what sorrows thou hast borne,
And find that nought relents Parthenia's scorn,
Sure he will pity thee.

DIONE.

-No, Laura, no. Should I, alas! the sylvan dress forego, Then might he think that I her pride foment, That injur'd love instructs me to resent; Our secret enterprise might fatal prove: Man flies the plague of persecuting love.

LAURA.

Avoid Parthenia; lest his rage grow warm, And jealousy resolve some fatal harm.

DIONE.

O Laura, if thou chance the youth to find,
Tell him what torments vex my anxious mind;
Should I once more his awful presence seek,
The silent tears would bathe my glowing cheek;
By rising sighs my faultering voice be stay'd,
And trembling fear too soon confess the maid.
Haste, Laura, then; his vengeful soul assuage,
Tell him, I'm guiltless; cool his blinded rage;
Tell him that truth sincere my friendship brought,
Let him not cherish one suspicious thought.
Then, to convince him his distrust was vain,
I'll never, never see that nymph again.
This way he went.

With trembling gleam she tips the silent grove,
While all beneath the chequer'd shadows move.
Turn back thy silver axles, downward roll,
Darkness best fits the horrours of my soul.
Rise, rise, ye clouds; the face of Heaven deform,
Veil the bright goddess in a sable storm:
O look not down upon a wretched maid!
Let thy bright torch the happy lover aid,
And light his wandering footsteps to the bower
Where the kind nymph attends th' appointed hour.
Yet thou best seen unhappy love, like mine;
Did not thy lamp in Heaven's blue forehead shine,
When Thisbe sought her love along the glade?
Didst thou not then behold the gleaming blade,
And gild the fatal point that stabb'd her breast?
Soon I, like her, shall seek the realms of rest.
Let groves of mournful yew a wretch surround!
O sooth my ear with melancholy sound!

The village-curs now stretch their yelling throat,
And dogs from distant cots return the note;
The ravenous wolf along the valley prowls,
And with his famish'd cries the mountain howls.
But hark! what sudden noise advances near?
Repeated groans alarm my frighted ear!

Stay, fleeting life; may strength a-while prevail, Lest my clos'd lips confine th' imperfect tale. Ere the streak'd east grew warm with amber ray, I from the city took my doubtful way; Far o'er the plains I sought a beauteous maid, Who, from the court, in these wide forests stray'd, Wanders unknown; as I, with weary pain, Try'd every path, and opening glade, in vain, A band of thieves, forth-rushing from the wood, Unsheath'd their daggers warm with daily blood; Deep in my breast the barbarous steel is dy'd, And purple hands the golden prey divide. Hence are these mangling wounds. Say, gentle If thou hast known among the sylvan train [swain, The vagrant nymph I seek?

DIONE.

-What mov'd thy care, Thus, in these pathless wilds, to search the fair?

CLEANTHES.

I charge you, O ye daughters of the grove,
Ye Naïads, who the mossy fountains love,
Ye happy swains, who range the pastures wide,
Ye tender nymphs, who feed your flocks beside;
If my last gasping breath can pity move,
f e'er ye knew the pangs of slighted love,
how her, I charge you, where Cleanthes dy'd;
The grass yet reeking with the sanguine tide.
VOL. X.

A father's power to me the virgin gave, But she disdain'd to live a nuptial slave; So fled her native home.

DIONE.

'Tis then from thee Springs the foul source of all her misery. Could'st thou, thy selfish appetite to please, Condemn to endless woes another's peace?

CLEANTHES.

O spare me; nor my hapless love upbraid,
While on my heart Death's frozen hand is laid!
Go, seek her, guide her where Cleanthes bled;
When she surveys her lover pale and dead,
Tell her, that since she fled my hateful sight,
Without remorse I sought the realms of night.
Methinks I see her view these poor remains,
And on her cheek indecent gladness reigns!
Full in her presence cold Cleanthes lies,
And not one tear stands trembling in her eyes!
O let a sigh my hapless fate deplore!
Cleanthes now controls thy love no more.

DIONE.

[Dies.

What sudden gusts of grief my bosom rend!
A parent's curses o'er my head impend,
For disobedient vows; O wretched maid,
Those very vows Evander hath betray'd.
See, at thy fect Cleanthes bath'd in blood!
For love of thee he trod this lonely wood;
Thou art the cruel authoress of his fate;
He falls by thine; thou, by Evander's hate.
When shall my soul know rest? Cleanthes slain
No longer sighs and weeps for thy disdain.
Thou still art curst with love. Bleed, virgin, bleed.
How shall a wretch from anxious life be freed!
My troubled brain with sudden frenzy burns,
And shatter'd thought now this, now that way turns.
What do I see thus glittering on the plains?
Ha! the dread sword yet warm with crimson stains!
[Takes up the dagger.
SCENE II.

You, whose ambition labours to be great,
Think on the perils which on riches wait.
Safe are the shepherd's paths; when sober Even
Streaks with pale light the bending arch of Heaven,
From danger free, through deserts wild he hies,
The rising smoke far o'er the mountain spies,
Which marks his distant cottage; on he fares,
For him no murderers lay their nightly snares;
They pass him by, they turn their steps away:
Safe Poverty was ne'er the villain's prey.
At home he lies secure in easy sleep,
No bars his ivy-mantled cottage keep;

No thieves in dreams the fancy'd dagger hold,
And drag him to detect the buried gold;
Nor starts he from his couch aghast and pale,
When the door murmurs with the hollow gale.
While he, whose iron coffers rust with wealth,
Harbours beneath his roof Deceit and Stealth;
Treachery with lurking pace frequents his walks,
And close behind him horrid Murder stalks.
'Tis tempting lucre makes the villain bold:
There lies a bleeding sacrifice to gold.

DIONE.

To live, is but to wake to daily cares,
And journey through a tedious vale of tears.
Had you not rush'd between, my life had flown;
And I, like him, no more had sorrow known.

PARTHENIA.

When anguish in the gloomy bosom dwells,
The counsel of a friend the cloud dispels.
Give thy breast vent, the secret grief impart,
And say what woe lies heavy at thy heart.
To save thy life, kind Heaven has succour sent,
The gods by me thy threaten'd fate prevent.

DIONE.

No. To prevent it, is beyond thy power;
Thou only canst defer the welcome hour.
When you the lifted dagger turn'd aside,
Still fate is in my reach. From mountains high,
Only one road to death thy force deny'd.
Deep in whose shadow craggy ruins lie,
Can I not headlong fling this weight of woe,
And dash out life against the flints below?
Are there not streams, and lakes, and rivers wide,
Where my last breath may bubble on the tide ?
No. Life shall never flatter me again,
Nor shall to morrow bring new sighs and pain.

-Would that treacherous boy Have forc'd thy virtue to his brutal joy? What rous'd his passion to this bold advance? Did c'er thy eyes confess one willing glance? I know, the faithless youth his trust betray'd; And well the dagger hath my wrongs repaid.

DIONE. [Raising herself on her arm. Breaks not Evander's voice along the glade? Ha! is it he who holds the recking blade! There needed not or poison, sword, or dart; Thy faithless vows, alas! had broke my heart.

PARTHENIA.

[Aside.

O tremble, shepherd, for thy rash offence,
The sword is dy'd with murder'd innocence !
His gentle soul no brutal passion seiz'd,
Nor at my bosom was the dagger rais'd;
Self-murder was his aim; the youth I found
Whelm'd in despair, and stay'd the falling wound.

DIONE.

DIONE.

PARTHENIA.

LYCIDAS.

Was he thus faithful? thus, to friendship true?
Then I'm a wretch! All peace of mind, adieu !
If ebbing life yet beat within thy vein,
Alexis, s eak; unclose those lids again.

[Flings himself on the ground near Dione. See at thy feet the barbarous villain kneel! 'Tis Lycidas who grasps the bloody steel, Thy once-lov'd friend.-Yet, ere I cease to live, Canst thou a wretched penitent forgive?

DIONE.

When low beneath the sable mould I rest,
May a sincerer friendship share thy breast!
Why are those heaving groans? (ah! cease to weep!)
May my lost name in dark oblivion sleep;
Let this sad tale no speaking stone declare,
From future eyes to draw a pitying tear.
Let o'er my grave the leveling plough-share pass,
Mark not the spot; forget that e'er I was.
Then may'st thou with Parthenia's love be blest,
And not one thought on me thy joys molest!
My swimming eyes are overpower'd with light,
And darkening shadows fleet before my sight:
May'st thou be happy! ah! my soul is free.'
[Dies.

LYCIDAS.

O cruel shepherdess! for love of thee [To Parthenia. This fatal deed was done.