 | Teraminta |  |
SCENE VI.
A Grove.Ardelia sola.
Ard.
What is become of my Cratander?
O boding Heart!
Why dost thou fill my Soul with sad Conjecture
He's surely slain,
19
Has kill'd his Rival,
And therefore fled.
What Scenes of Sorrow
Take Birth from this pernicious Beauty?
And must she triumph thus?
Rob me of my Peace,
Of him I love.
And shall I suffer tamely?
No,
If my Cratander's dead,
I kill her for his sake;
If he still lives, I kill her for my own.
But die she must; farewel Compassion!
AIR.
Vengeance inspires me,
Jealousy fires me,
And Pity far is flown;
No Fears shall quell me,
No Tears repel me,
She must for all atone.
Jealousy fires me,
And Pity far is flown;
No Fears shall quell me,
No Tears repel me,
She must for all atone.
[Exit.
| Teraminta | |