SCENE II.
Roldan; Chorus; Messenger.
Messenger.
Oh horror! Oh my friends!
Sophia!
Roldan.
Ha!
Messenger.
The sweet Sophia! She,
The loveliest flow'r of all Salopia's plains!—
Roldan.
Speak. What of her? Oh torture! Oh my fears!
Messenger.
She's dead! she's dead!
Roldan.
Oh God!
Chorus.
Where? where? and how?
Messenger.
As, even now, her sad, repentant sire,
By me accompanied, the forest rang'd,
To seek, and bring her back, we found the fair
Suspended to a bough; a cruel cord—
But see, the wretched man, and in his arms
His breathless child.
Chorus.
This instant fly to where,
Beside the hill, Pharmacinus resides:
The pupil he of sage Humanicus,
'Tis like the hapless female may restore.
