 | The Sultaness |  |
SCENE VI.
Roxana, Atalida.Rox.
Amazement! Heav'n! what is it strikes my Soul?
Illuding Vision! Do these Eyes deceive me?
Were not his Looks o'ercast with Discontent,
His Words all frozen, and his Accent cold?
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What! does he then repent my Rage appeas'd?
How long! how long! will thy rash Love delude thee?
Hah! You were talking with him; tell me, Madam,
How were his Thoughts employ'd?
Ata.
On Love and You.
Roxa.
On me!—You see he throws away his Life,
Rather than counterfeit a Moment's Passion.
But say wherefore when Joy shou'd be the Subject,
Why when all Eyes and Hearts were fill'd with Transport?
Did he retire to wail with you his Fortune?
Perhaps you can explain the mournful Cause,
That thus (Oh Righteous Alha) blasts my Hopes.
Ata.
I did not mark this melancholy Air,
It has not cross'd my unobserving Eyes.
He weary'd me with talking o'er your Bounties;
Now while you enter'd, ev'n now his Heart,
His grateful Heart, was full of Love and You.
Shou'd he seem otherwise, no wonder, Madam,
This solemn Hour, big with his future Weal,
This sacred Crisis of his Fate and Fortune,
May ask for Solitude and serious Thinking;
A passing Care may overcast his Mind,
And for a Moment cloud his chearful Brow.
Roxa.
Madam, you plead his Cause with great Address!
Ata.
What other Reasons can—
Roxa.
Enough! enough!—
I know your Reasons better than you think;
Leave me:—I too have need of Solitude;
I have my Cares and Fears, like Bajazet.
Oh leave me for a Moment to my Thoughts.
| The Sultaness | |