Make him alone the victim; but with blessings

  Bright, and distinguish'd, crown his beauteous daughter,

  The charming Adelaide, my heart's first passion!

 Aust. Oh most disastrous love! My son, my son,

  Thy words are poniards here. Alas! I thought

  (So thought the tyrant, and for that he rag'd)

  The vows exchang'd 'tween Isabel and thee,

  Thwarted the issue of his wild designs.

 Theod. I knew not Isabel, beyond a moment

  Pass'd in surprise and haste.

 Aust. O, had malignant fortune toil'd to blast him,

  Thus had she snar'd him in this fatal passion!—

  And does young Adelaide return thy love?

 Theod. Bless'd powers, she does! How can you frown, and hear it!

  Her generous soul, first touch'd by gratitude,

  Soon own'd a kinder, warmer sympathy.

  Soft as the fanning of a turtle's plumes,

  The sweet confession met my enraptur'd ears.

 Aust. What can I do?—Come near, my Theodore;

  Dost thou believe my affection?

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