Alon. Has heaven, in all its infinite stock of mercy, No overflowings for us? poor, miserable, guilty men!
Gonz. Nothing but horrors do encompass us! For ever, for ever must we suffer!
Alon. For ever we shall perish! O dismal words, For ever!
1 Dev. Who are the pillars of the tyrants court?
2 Dev. Rapine and Murder his crown must support!
3 Dev. ——His cruelty does tread On orphans' tender breasts, and brothers dead!
2 Dev. Can heaven permit such crimes should be Attended with felicity?
1 Dev. No; tyrants their sceptres uneasily bear, In the midst of their guards they their consciences fear.
2 Dev. { Care their minds when they wake unquiet will keep; Chor. { And we with dire visions disturb all their sleep.
Anto. Oh horrid sight! how they stare upon us! The fiend will hurry us to the dark mansion. Sweet heaven, have mercy on us!