 | Demetrius |  |
SCENE XV.
Cleonice, Barsene.Bar.
Behold how fortune seconds all your wishes:
See your desires accomplish'd; every sorrow
Is now dispers'd.
Cleo.
O Heaven!
Bar.
What means that sigh?
Is there a cause of grief? This happy hour
The man you love is yours; and still your eyes
Are dimm'd with streaming tears.
Cleo.
My dear Barsene,
Alcestes now is lost!
Bar.
How lost, my queen!
342
Shall then my subjects be more generous found
Than I their queen? And would'st thou Cleonice
Should by her partial fondness judge of merit,
Without regarding that illustrious throng
Of nobles that surround her? Shall she raise
A shepherd to the throne to rule the world?
O! can I even in thought—It must not be.
Till now my glory urg'd me to subdue
The opposing voice of faction; that repell'd,
It now inspires me to subdue myself.
Bar.
How will Alcestes bear it?
Cleo.
If Alcestes
Still love me as he ought, he'll love my glory.
O! he'll exult to find his Cleonice
Thus shine with native lustre o'er her sex,
Above the vulgar herd of common lovers.
Bar.
I fear your best resolves will shrink before him.
Cleo.
Alas! my friend, I dare not meet the trial;
I know not if my virtue could support it;
For O! my heart is fix'd too firmly his.
If I would conquer, I no more must view
That dear lov'd face.
| Demetrius | |