Dione. A Pastoral Tragedy - Act 5, Scene 3

SCENE III.

DIONE. PARTHENIA. LYCIDAS.

LYCIDAS.

If Laura right direct the darksome ways,
Along these paths the pensive shepherd strays.

DIONE.

Let not a tear for me roll down thy cheek.
O would my throbbing sighs my heart-strings break!
Why was my breast the lifted stroke deny'd?
Must then again the deathful deed be try'd?
Yes. 'Tis resolv'd.

PARTHENIA.

— — — Ah, hold; forbear, forbear!

LYCIDAS.

Methought Distress with shrieks alarm'd my ear!

PARTHENIA.

Strike not. Ye Gods, defend him from the wound!

LYCIDAS.

Yes. 'Tis Parthenia 's voice, I know the sound.
Some sylvan ravisher would force the maid,
And Laura sent me to her virtue's aid.
Die, villain, die; and seek the shades below.

DIONE.

Whoe'er thou art, I bless thee for the blow.

LYCIDAS.

Since Heav'n ordain'd this arm thy life should guard,
O hear my vows! be love the just reward.

PARTHENIA.

Rather let vengeance, with her swiftest speed
O'ertake thy flight, and recompence the deed!
Why stays the thunder in the upper skie?
Gather, ye clouds; ye forky lightnings, fly:
On thee may all the wrath of heav'n descend,
Whose barb'rous hand hath slain a faithful friend.
Behold Alexis !

LYCIDAS.

— — — Would that treach'rous boy
Have forc'd thy virtue to his brutal joy?
What rous'd his passion to this bold advance?
Did e'er thy eyes confess one willing glance?
I know, the faithless youth his trust betray'd;
And well the dagger hath my wrongs repay'd.

DIONE,

Breaks not Evander 's voice along the glade?
Hah! is it he who holds the reeking blade!
There needed not or poyson, sword, or dart;
Thy faithless vows, alas! had broke my heart.

PARTHENIA.

O tremble, shepherd, for thy rash offence,
The sword is dy'd with murder'd innocence!
His gentle soul no brutal passion seiz'd,
Nor at my bosom was the dagger rais'd;
Self-murder was his aim; the youth I found
Whelm'd in despair, and stay'd the falling wound.

DIONE.

Into what mischiefs is the lover led,
Who calls down vengeance on his perjur'd head!
O may he ne'er bewail this desperate deed,
And may, unknown, unwept, Dione bleed!

LYCIDAS.

What horrors on the guilty mind attend!
His conscience had reveng'd an injur'd friend,
Hadst thou not held the stroke. In death he sought
To lose the heart-consuming pain of thought.
Did not the smooth-tongu'd boy perfidious prove,
Plead his own passion, and betray my love?

DIONE.

O let him ne'er this bleeding victim know;
Lest his rash transport, to revenge the blow,
Should in his dearer heart the dagger stain!
That wound would pierce my soul with double pain.

PARTHENIA.

How did his faithful lips (now pale and cold)
With moving eloquence thy griefs unfold!

LYCIDAS.

Was he thus faithful? thus, to friendship true?
Then I'm a wretch. All peace of mind, adieu!
If ebbing life yet beat within thy vein,
Alexis , speak; unclose those lids again.
See at thy feet the barb'rous villain kneel!
'Tis Lycidas who grasps the bloody steel.
Thy once lov'd friend. — Yet e'er I cease to live,
Canst thou a wretched penitent forgive?

DIONE.

When low beneath the sable mould I rest,
May a sincerer friendship share thy breast!
Why are those heaving groans? (ah! cease to weep!)
May my lost name in dark oblivion sleep;
Let this sad tale no speaking stone declare,
From future eyes to draw a pitying tear.
Let o'er my grave the lev'ling plough-share pass,
Mark not the spot; forget that e'er I was.
Then may'st thou with Parthenia 's love be blest,
And not one thought on me thy joys molest!
My swimming eyes are over-power'd with light,
And darkning shadows fleet before my sight.
May'st thou be happy! ah! my soul is free.

LYCIDAS.

O cruel shepherdess, for love of thee
This fatal deed was done.
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