Orestes A Dramatic Opera |
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| 1. | SCENE I. |
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 | Orestes |  |
SCENE I.
SCENE, A pleasant Prospect of the Country.Enter Hermione, and Laodice.
Herm.
'Twas not a Dream; full to my waking Sense
The Goddess stood confest: Her Form and Grace
Still strong to View; and still I seem to hear
The awful Accents of her grave Command.
“Hermione, said she, if yet the Care
“Of thy betroth'd Orestes touch thy Mind,
“That gallant Youth, thy Royal Grandsire's Choice,
“Thy destin'd Husband, if the Fates be firm,
“Swift to the Scythian Tauri speed thy way;
“Where Dangers thicken round his princely Head.
“Sparta obeys thee in thy absent Sire,
“And, glad, shall send the delegated Vessels.
“Go forth; and know, whate'er the Gods have purpos'd,
“Whether 'tis giv'n you to ensure his Safety,
“Your Stars are equal, and your Fortunes blended.
Laod.
That he was shipwreck'd on this barb'rous Coast,
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But whether he escap'd the boist'rous Wave,
Whether 'tis he now wears the Scythian Bonds,
There Rumour's at a Loss.
Herm.
And Fears suggest,
O dear Laodice, a Fate of Horrors.
Thence big Discomfort swells, thence flows a Train
Of startling Doubts, and Hope grows sick to Death.
Perhaps, the Billows, piteous of his Woes,
Lent him a secret Grave, in kind Prevention.
Perhaps, (more frightful Thought!) in hideous Pomp
The crimson Shrine has drunk his streaming Blood.
What then for lost Hermione remains?
What but to die, and bid adieu to Terrors?
Laod.
The pitying Gods avert that fatal Doom,
Nor wound their Sparta with so dear a Loss!
[Musick is heard.
Herm.
Ha! whence these sudden Strains? this airy Charm?
What strange Musician wantons with my Sorrows?
[Pallas descends in a Chariot of Clouds.
Pallas.
Look up, bright Maid, and see
What Pow'r is watchful o'er thy Fate;
Pallas, that still thro' wayward Turns presides
Patron of Virtue, and the Hero's Guard.
Thy dear Orestes lives; but holds
His Life in doubtful Scale:
In Bonds the gallant Youth's detain'd,
The destin'd Victim of Diana's Shrine.
Herm.
Then all is lost
Pallas.
—Repress thy Fears:
And to yon Dome, whose brazen Gates
Confront thy View, now bend thy Steps:
Inquire the Priestess; trust her with thy Fortune;
Fate and the Gods may smile.—I must no more:
'Tis yours t'exert each Pow'r of Soul,
And shew the Heav'ns that you deserve their Aid.
And to yon Dome, whose brazen Gates
Confront thy View, now bend thy Steps:
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Fate and the Gods may smile.—I must no more:
'Tis yours t'exert each Pow'r of Soul,
And shew the Heav'ns that you deserve their Aid.
Air.
'Tis Virtue's Task to conquer Fate,And make Disaster bow:
Then think, the Gods in Wisdom hate
Their choicest Works t'undo.
For at thy Birth, O virtuous Fair,
Two Goddesses were join'd;
Thy Beauties Venus made her Care,
And Pallas form'd thy Mind.
[Pallas ascends.
Herm.
Thanks, sacred Pallas, best belov'd of Jove!
Thy Deity still by me revered and blest!
How hast thou planted Comfort round my Heart,
And made the gloomy Prospect gay within!
Goddess of Arms and Wisdom, lend thy Strength,
Thy Conduct to me, thro' this Maze of Fate.
Help to make mild thy sterner Sister's Wrath,
Dian, whose Virgin Liv'ry yet I wear,
Whose Altar now I seek; whose dread Resentment
With heaving Sighs of Woe, and streaming Eyes
I bow to deprecate.—If Virtue's Cause
Of Right from heav'nly Minds Compassion draws;
If bending Grace our melting Sorrows chears,
'Tis ours to weep, so Mercy dwell in Tears.
[Exeunt Hermione and Laodice.
| Orestes | |