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SCENE IV.

Teraminta sola.
Ter.
Sure I was born for Misery;
To taste the Bitterness of Life,

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Without the least allay of Sweetness.
Ardelia is most happy,
I most wretched;
And yet I envy not Ardelia.
Why grieve I then?
Not for her Happiness,
But for my own Misfortune.
AIR.
Thus dash'd by the Billows,
The Seamen explore,
All under green Willows
The Shepherds on Shore;
To see them contented
What Joy can it be,
To Wretches tormented,
And tost on the Sea.