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ACT II.
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ACT II.

The Presence Chamber.
The Hero,
solus.
How frail is man! what fears, what doubts perplex
His firmest resolutions! sure the gods, &c.
But hark! yon trumpet's sprightly notes declare

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The king's approach, be still my flutt'ring heart.
O royal Sir, if e'er thy grov'ling slave, &c.
[Kneeling.
Refus'd! O indignation!
[Rising hastily.
Is it day?
Do I behold the sun?—thou tyrant, monster—
Down, down allegiance to the blackest hell.
I cannot, will not bear it.—O my fair,
And art thou come to witness my disgrace?
And is it possible that charms like thine
Could spring from such a sire?—why dost thou weep?
Say, can a father's harsh commands controul—
—Unkind and cruel! then thou never loved'st.
Curs'd be the treacherous sex, curs'd be the hour,
Curs'd be the world, and every thing—but her!
By heaven she faints; ah lift those lovely eyes,
Turn on this faithful breast their chearing beams.
—O joy! O extacy! and wilt thou seek
With me some happier land, some safer shore?
At night I'll meet thee in the palmy grove,
When the pale moon-beams, conscious of the theft—
—Till then a long adieu!
The merchant thus, &c.

[Exeunt severally, languishing at each other.
End of the second Act.
 

It is a usual complaint in tragedy as well as in common life, that the gods have not made us as they should have done.