ALL THREE (_together_). Of sternest fate that dooms to die Such beauty rare! Oh! heavens high! And stars! behold! and sigh! 2ND MAN. Who then, eternal gods, will doom A guiltless maid to lasting gloom? Oh! this thy rigour, heaven, shames Hell's unrelenting flames! 1ST MAN. Cruel will 2ND MAN. Of gods severe! THE TWO MEN. Say why this hard decree, To crush a heart so free From guilt or stain? Oh! fell edict unheard ere this! Thou doomest a maid who showers bliss Upon the mortal race. She the sad earth would grace, And would give life for pain! WOMAN. All tears are idle, all sighs. Heaven wills it so--she dies! Whene'er the gods their powers wield, All man can do--is but to yield. 1ST MAN. Alas! dire grief 2ND MAN. Without relief! 1ST MAN. Cruel death! 2ND MAN. Fell decree! ACT II. SCENE I.--THE KING, PSYCHE, AGLAURA, CIDIPPE, LYCAS, _and_ FOLLOWERS. PSY. The cause of your tears, my Lord, is dear to me; but you are too kind when you allow a father's love to overmaster the duties of a great king. The homage which here you pay to nature is fraught with too much injury to the rank which you hold. I must decline its touching favours. Check somewhat the sway of your grief over your wisdom, and cease to honour my destiny with tears, which, springing from a king's heart, show weakness. KING. Ah! my daughter! close not my eyes to these tears; my grief is reasonable, even though it be extreme; and when such a loss as mine must endure for ever, wisdom herself, believe me, may weep. 'Tis in vain that pride of regal sway bids us be insensible to such calamities; as vain for reason to come to our help, and desire us to see with unmoved eye the death of what we love. The effort required is barbarous in the eyes of the universe--'tis brutality rather than highest virtue. In this misfortune I will not wear a show of insensibility, and hide the grief I feel. I renounce the vanity of this fierce callousness, known as fortitude, and whatever be the name given to the keen pain, the pangs of which I feel, I will exhibit it, my daughter, to the gaze of all, and in the heart of a king display that of a man. PSY. I deserve not this violent grief. Seek, I pray, to resist the claims it asserts over your heart, whose might a thousand events have marked. What! for me, my Lord, you must abandon that kingly firmness of which, under the blows of misfortune, you have shown such perfect proofs?