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.

Cleone.

Forgive my boldness, Madam, if I ask

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