 | Themistocles |  |
SCENE XI.
Sebastesalone.
Disloyal princess! hast thou then betray'd me?
Insensate! shall I rashly dare to accuse her?
And does a traitor now complain of treason?
This have I well deserv'd.—Ah! fly, Sebastes,
But whither? From myself I cannot fly,
And in my breast I bear my own tormentor.
Where'er I go will terror and remorse
Pursue my steps and set my crime before me.
Insensate! shall I rashly dare to accuse her?
And does a traitor now complain of treason?
This have I well deserv'd.—Ah! fly, Sebastes,
But whither? From myself I cannot fly,
And in my breast I bear my own tormentor.
Where'er I go will terror and remorse
Pursue my steps and set my crime before me.
Ye cruel pangs that mortals know,
When these on guilt attend;
Ah! wherefore, heavenly Powers, so slow
A traitor's heart to rend?
When these on guilt attend;
Ah! wherefore, heavenly Powers, so slow
A traitor's heart to rend?
Ye dreadful voices! ever near,
Whose sounds my bosom chill,
Why not till now my trembling ear
With warning terrors fill?
Whose sounds my bosom chill,
Why not till now my trembling ear
With warning terrors fill?
[Exit.
| Themistocles | |