Pleas'd takes its sweets, and gazes on its bloom.

Lysias.

Lysias.

My Lord, forget her, tear her from your breast.

Who, like the Phœnix gazes on the sun,

And strives to soar up to the glorious blaze,

Should never leave Ambition's brightest object,

To turn, and view the beauties of a flow'r.

Vardanes.

Vardanes.

O, Lysias, chide no more, for I have done.

Yes, I'll forget this proud disdainful beauty;

Hence, with vain love—Ambition, now, alone,

Shall guide my actions, since mankind delights

To give me pain, I'll study mischief too,

And shake the earth, e'en like this raging tempest.

Lysias.

Lysias.

A night like this, so dreadful to behold,

Since my remembrance's birth, I never saw.

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