 | The Orphan of China |  |
SCENE I.
Zamtisolus.
Etan too long delays his sad return.
I long, yet fear, to know the deed's dispatch'd;
I wish, yet dread, his coming. Oh! my son,
My dear, dear infant! art thou then destroy'd?
Have they made up this horrid sacrifice?
I could not to the Scythian's butcher hand
Myself deliver you. Heav'n give me strength
To hear the sad success of my attempt,
And hide the anguish of my tortur'd soul?
| The Orphan of China | |