SCENE V.
A Camp.
Xarino in a warlike Habit.
Xar.
Thus rous'd as from some strange illusive Dream,
I wake astonisht, and with Shame reflect,
Upon my Follies past, O Teraminta!
In what a maze of Error, hast thou led me?
While I in Indolence by Charms inchanted,
Amus'd away my life's Meridian Splendor.
I shou'd have been conducting shining Legions,
In all the splendid Pomp of War array'd;
And not have suffer'd these sad Revolutions,
To fill my Country with such Scenes of Sorrow.
My Father Captive! O Distracting Thought!
But 'tis resolv'd, I'll amply now atone,
Preserve his sacred Life, or lose my own.
AIR.
For Glory and Fame,
For a Conqueror's Name,
I pant with an Ardor unknown.
My Country I'll save,
Th'Enslaver enslave,
And restore to my Father his Throne.
