 | Orestes |  |
SCENE I.
SCENE, An Apartment in the Palace. Thoas discover'd at a Table. Tapers burning.Thoas.
The Season asks Repose; but watchful Cares
Barr Slumber from my Eyes.—What Pangs are these,
That rankle in my Breast? Are they of Love,
Or Jealousy for Passion ill-repaid?
Which e'er the Source, Enjoyment and Revenge
Must be the Cure:—but, first, to be reveng'd.—
The am'rous Queen burns for our destin'd Victim;
And may again with Magick Wiles attempt
To snatch him from the Shrine.—Prevent that Fear:
Cut off its Object, and the Passion dies.—
Why should I hazard, what may be ensur'd?
My Fate cries out, This Interval is mine:
And, either way, our Goddess Rites are paid;
Whether the solemn sacrificing Steel,
Or my more secret Dagger, drink his Blood.
—It shall be so.—While Night and Silence reign,
I'll steal, and execute my own Revenge.
Grecian, I come: Thy Genius must be strong,
And watchful, if he ward this Blow of Justice.
[Exit Thoas.
| Orestes | |