 | Dido |  |
SCENE X.
Æneas, Selene.Æn.
When late Araspes dar'd me to the fight
He fought his monarch's cause; and if Selene
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A noble heart.
Sel.
Whate'er Araspes be,
I waste not time on him—Dido requires
A converse with thee.
Æn.
But even now I left
The queen's apartment; if she hope again
To stay my steps on these forbidden shores,
She will but torture both with fruitless pain.
Sel.
How canst thou, O thou dear one! thus forsake
A wretched queen that loves thee?
Æn.
How Selene!
To me?
Sel.
'Tis Dido, not Selene speaks.
Æn.
If pity for a sister thus afflict you,
Think not of me—to her once more return:
O! bid the beauteous mourner yet have comfort,
Submit to fate and banish fruitless sorrow,
Sel.
Ah! no—yet change thy purpose, yet relent,
—My life's best treasure!
Æn.
Ha! Is this Selene?
Sel.
'Tis Dido, not Selene speaks—consent
To hear her yet—'tis all she now implores.
Æn.
'Tis thus that lovers still deceive themselves,
And seeking comfort, find but new despair.
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Of every pang the bosom bears,
Most wretched lovers find
The moment that asunder tears
Two hearts in one intwin'd.
Most wretched lovers find
The moment that asunder tears
Two hearts in one intwin'd.
What souls, by love's soft passion mov'd,
Can bear this stroke of woe?
This, if Selene ne'er has prov'd,
Ah! may she never know.
Can bear this stroke of woe?
This, if Selene ne'er has prov'd,
Ah! may she never know.
[Exit.
| Dido | |