(Like thunder bursting on the guilty soul), With curs'd Vonones' voice pour'd in my ears A hateful tale of love; for he it seems Had seen me at Arabia's royal court, And took those means to force me to his arms. [Pg 42] Cleone. Cleone. Perhaps you may gain something from the Captives Of your lost Parents. Evanthe. Evanthe. This I meant to try, Soon as the night hides Nature in her darkness, Veil'd in the gloom we'll steal into their prison. But, oh! perhaps e'en now my aged Sire May 'mongst the slain lie welt'ring on the field, Pierc'd like a riddle through with num'rous wounds, While parting life is quiv'ring on his lips, He may perhaps be calling on his Evanthe.
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