DION E.

A

PASTORAL TRAGEDY.

"Sunt numina amanti,

"Sævit et injuftâ lege relicta Venus." TIBULL. Eleg. v. Lib. 1.

DRAMATIS PERSONE.

MEN.

EVANDER under the name of LYCIDAS.

CLEANTHES.

Shepherds.

WOMEN.

DIONE under the name of ALEXIS.

PARTHENIA.

LAURA.

Scene, ARCADIA.

ACT I. SCENE I.

A Plain, at the Foot of a steep craggy Mountain.

DIONE. LAUR A.

LAURA.

WHY doft thou fly me? Stay, unhappy fair,
Seek not these horrid caverns of defpair;
To trace thy steps, the midnight air I bore,
Trod the brown defert, and unfhelter'd moor:
Three times the lark has fung his matin lay,
And rofe on dewy wing to meet the day,
Since first I found thee, ftretch'd in penfive mood,
Where laurels border Ladon's filver flood.

DIONE.

O let my foul with grateful thanks o'erflow!
'Tis to thy hand my daily life I owe.

Like the weak lamb, you rais'd me from the plain,
Too faint to bear bleak winds and beating rain;
Each day I fhare thy bowl and clean repaft,
Each night thy roof defends the chilly blast.
But vain is all thy friendship, vain thy care;
Forget a wretch abandon'd to despair.

LAURA.

Despair will fly thee, when thou shalt impart
The fatal fecret that torments thy heart;

VOL. XXXVII.

P

Difclofe

Difclofe thy forrows to my faithful ear,
Inftruct these eyes to give thee tear for tear.
Love, love's the caufe; our forests speak thy flame,
The rocks have learnt to figh Evander's name.
If faultering fhame thy bashful tongue restrain,
If thou haft look'd, and blush'd, and figh'd in vain;
Say, in what grove thy lovely fhepherd ftrays,
Tell me what mountains warble with his lays;
Thither I'll speed me, and with moving art
Draw foft confeflions from his melting heart.

DIONE.

my fecret woe. Love bids these scalding tears inceffant flow. Ill-fated love! O fay, ye fylvan maids,

Thy generous care has touch'd

Who range wide forefts and fequefter'd fhades,
Say where Evander bled, point out the ground
That yet is purple with the favage wound.
Yonder he lies; I hear the bird of prey ;
High o'er those cliffs the raven wings his way;
Hark how he croaks! he fcents the murder near.
O may no greedy beak his visage tear!
Shield him, ye Cupids ; ftrip the Paphian grove,
And ftrow unfading myrtle o'er my love!
Down, heaving heart.

LAURA.

-The mournful tale disclofe.

DIONE.

Let not my tears intrude on thy repofe.

Yet if thy friendship ftill the cause request;
I'll speak, though forrow rend my labouring breast.

Know