University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

Thalia enters.
Thalia.
For what Offence, say, for what Crime unknown,
Philander flys me? Are my fond Desires
To ease his Sorrows, or to share his Griefs,
Rewarded thus? Soon as the King's Commands
Were rumour'd to me, eager to perform
The Duty of a Sister and a Friend,
I hasten'd hither; and at my Approach
Unkind he fled.

Dion.
Nor Hatred, nor Neglect,
Forc'd him to shun thee, but a just Concern,
Such as those know who feel what others feel;
Judge from his Words: Thalia comes, he cry'd;
I will not stay to wreck her tender Soul
With the Recital of her Brother's Woes.


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Thalia.
And cou'dst thou, Dion, let Philander go
A lonely Exile to the gloomy Shades,
Where Melancholy reigns, where sad Reflection
Shall prey uninterrupted on his Mind?

Dion.
Reproach me not, my Fair; to Love and Friendship
I give this Moment; by his own Request
I here attend thee: he intreats, by me,
That you will charge Urania not to throw
One Thought away on him.

Thalia.
That Charge is vain;
For when her Father press'd her to the Temple,
Sighing she cry'd Philander is not there.

Dion.
Ill-fated Virgin! and unjust Decree!
O! my Thalia, we must now conspire
To drive the Pains of disappointed Love
From our Philander's Breast; a Friend and Sister
May prove Physicians to his troubled Mind.
Haste, my Thalia, to the Solitude,
Where Innocence and Love secure may rest;
Where I'll forget that e'er I shin'd in Arms;
Where ev'ry Hour shall be employ'd for thee,
To find new Ways to please: thy Brother there,
No longer kept a Stranger to our Passion,
Shall join our Hands, and bid our Hearts rejoice
In our successful and our virtuous Love.

Thalia.
Haste to the Scene, where thou shalt quickly meet
The Maid who gave her virgin Heart to thee;
And whose first Pride is that she chose so well.

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Tho my Soul ill can brook the short Delay,
Yet some Regard is due to poor Urania,
My true, my royal, Friend; who, now distracted
Betwixt the Tys of Duty and of Love,
Wants a kind helping Hand: when I have pay'd
The Debt I owe to Friendship and to Virtue,
To Courts I'll bid adieu, and hail the Plains,
Where Love, where Innocence, securely reigns.

Dion.
There shall your Smiles, my Fair, relieve your Slave
Of all the Torments which your Absence gave.