 | Teraminta |  |
SCENE XII.
Teraminta sola.AIR.
Ter.
Sing on, sweet Warbler of the Grove!
In Strains like these,
My Soul appease,
And chide my Swain's Delay.
Around the fragrant Myrtles rove,
Alarm his Ear,
Say I am here,
And bid him haste away.
Enter Messenger with Letter.
In Strains like these,
My Soul appease,
And chide my Swain's Delay.
Around the fragrant Myrtles rove,
Alarm his Ear,
Say I am here,
And bid him haste away.
What means this Letter?
Xarino was not us'd
To speak by Messengers.
He sees I love, and now begins to slight me.
Reads.
Xarino was not us'd
13
He sees I love, and now begins to slight me.
“Fair Nymph, your faithless Swain
“Is gone to wed another, whose Possessions
“Are greater far than yours.
“As for the lost Cratander;
“Ere this salutes your Eyes,
“Conclude him now no more;
“And let his Suff'rings meet that Pity dead,
“Which you deny'd him living.
“Is gone to wed another, whose Possessions
“Are greater far than yours.
“As for the lost Cratander;
“Ere this salutes your Eyes,
“Conclude him now no more;
“And let his Suff'rings meet that Pity dead,
“Which you deny'd him living.
Ter.
Lost Teraminta.
AIR.
Ye Nymphs! for my sake ne'er believe
In Man created to deceive,
Lest you're like me undone.
Wou'd you remain secure and free,
And not Repentance taste like me,
Their Sex for ever shun.
In Man created to deceive,
Lest you're like me undone.
Wou'd you remain secure and free,
And not Repentance taste like me,
Their Sex for ever shun.
| Teraminta | |