Think not that I'll pursue its wand'ring fires, No more I'll know perplexing doubts and fears, And erring trace suspicion's endless maze, For, ah! I doubt no more. EDESSA. Their shouts approach. QUEEN. Lead me, Edessa, to some peaceful gloom, Some silent shade far from the walks of men, There shall the hop'd revenge my thoughts employ, And sooth my sorrows with the coming joy. SCENE IV. _EVANTHE and CLEONE._ EVANTHE. No, I'll not meet him now, for love delights In the soft pleasures of the secret shade, And shuns the noise and tumult of the croud. How tedious are the hours which bring him To my fond, panting heart! for oh! to those Who live in expectation of the bliss, Time slowly creeps, and ev'ry tardy minute Seems mocking of their wishes. Say, Cleone, For you beheld the triumph, 'midst his pomp, Did he not seem to curse the empty show, The pageant greatness, enemy to love, Which held him from Evanthe? haste, to tell me, And feed my gready ear with the fond tale-- Yet, hold--for I shall weary you with questions, And ne'er be satisfied--Beware, Cleone, And guard your heart from Love's delusive sweets. CLEONE. Is Love an ill, that thus you caution me To shun his pow'r? EVANTHE. The Tyrant, my Cleone, Despotic rules, and fetters all our thoughts. Oh! wouldst thou love, then bid adieu to peace, Then fears will come, and jealousies intrude, Ravage your bosom, and disturb your quiet, E'en pleasure to excess will be a pain. Once I was free, then my exulting heart Was like a bird that hops from spray to spray, And all was innocence and mirth; but, lo! The Fowler came, and by his arts decoy'd, And soon the Wanton cag'd. Twice fifteen times Has Cynthia dipt her horns in beams of light, Twice fifteen times has wasted all her brightness, Since first I knew to love; 'twas on that day When curs'd Vonones fell upon the plain, The lovely Victor doubly conquer'd me. CLEONE. Forgive my boldness, Madam, if I ask What chance first gave you to Vonones' pow'r? Curiosity thou know'st is of our sex. EVANTHE. That is a task will wake me to new sorrows, Yet thou attend, and I will tell thee all. Arabia gave me birth, my father held Great Offices at Court, and was reputed Brave, wise and loyal, by his Prince belov'd. Oft has he led his conqu'ring troops, and forc'd From frowning victory her awful honours. In infancy I was his only treasure, On me he wasted all his store of fondness. Oh! I could tell thee of his wond'rous goodness, His more than father's love and tenderness. But thou wouldst jeer, and say the tale was trifling; So did he dote upon me, for in childhood My infant charms, and artless innocence Blest his fond age, and won on ev'ry heart. But, oh! from this sprung ev'ry future ill, This fatal beauty was the source of all. CLEONE. 'Tis often so, for beauty is a flow'r That tempts the hand to pluck it. EVANTHE.