 | Demophoon |  |
SCENE XI.
Enter Cherinthus.Creu.
Thou com'st, Cherinthus,
In happy time to assist me.
Cher.
Dost thou, princess,
Still seek my brother's blood?
Creu.
No; rage inspir'd
That thought, and with my rage the thought is lost:
I seek his preservation. Dirce now
Goes to be sacrific'd, Timanthes raves
In wild despair: haste thou to calm his fury,
While I, on his behalf, entreat the king.
Cher.
O goodness worthy of a princely mind!
And who would not adore thee, fair Creusa?
123
Creu.
How hast thou found Creusa cruel to thee?
This heart is different far from what thou think'st—
Perhaps—but go—thou would'st enquire too much.
Cher.
Kind stars! I ask not if ye prove
Still malignant to my state;
'Tis enough that she I love,
Gives me but to doubt my fate.
Still malignant to my state;
'Tis enough that she I love,
Gives me but to doubt my fate.
The wretch who, long inur'd to grief,
Had ne'er one happy hour to prize;
Whene'er he doubts, receives relief,
For hopes begin when doubts arise.
Had ne'er one happy hour to prize;
Whene'er he doubts, receives relief,
For hopes begin when doubts arise.
[Exit.
| Demophoon | |