 | The Distrest Mother |  |
SCENE II.
Orestes, Hermione, and Cleone.Orest.
Madam, your Orders are obey'd: I have seen
Pyrrhus, my Rival; and have gained him for you.
The King resolves to wed you.
Her.
So I am told;
And farther, I am informed, that you, Orestes,
Are to dispose me for the intended Marriage.
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And are you, Madam, willing to comply?
Her.
Could I imagine Pyrrhus loved me still?
After so long Delays, who would have thought
His hidden Flames would shew themselves at last,
And kindle in his Breast, when mine expired?
I can suppose, with you, he fears the Greeks;
That it is Interest, and not Love, directs him;
And, that my Eyes had greater Power o'er you.
Orest.
No, Princess, no! It is too plain he loves you:
Your Eyes do what they will; and cannot fail
To gain a Conquest, where you wish they should.
Her.
What can I do, alas!—my Faith is promised:
Can I refuse, what is not mine to give?
A Princess is not at her Choice to love;
All we have left us is a blind Obedience:
And yet, you see, how far I had complyed,
And made my Duty yield to your Intreaties.
Orest.
Ah, cruel Maid! you knew—but I have done.
All have a Right to please themselves in Love:
I blame you not: 'Tis true I hop'd:—But you
Are Mistress of your Heart: And I am content.
'Tis Fortune is mine Enemy; not you.
But, Madam, I shall spare your farther Pain
On this uneasie Theme; and take my leave.
| The Distrest Mother | |