Aug. O Hermes! pity me!
I was, while heaven did smile,
The queen of all this isle,
Europe's pride,
And Albion's bride;
But gone my plighted lord! ah, gone is he!
235 O Hermes! pity me!
Tham. And I the noble Flood, whose tributary tide
Does on her silver margent smoothly glide;
But heaven grew jealous of our happy state,
And bid revolving fate
Our doom decree;
No more the King of Floods am I,
No more the Queen of Albion, she! [These two Lines are sung by Reprises betwixt Augusta and Thamesis.
| Aug. O Hermes! pity me! Tham. O Hermes! pity me! | } } } | Sung by Aug. and Tham. together. |
Aug. Behold!
Tham. Behold!
Aug. My turrets on the ground,
That once my temples crowned!
Tham. The sedgy honours of my brows dispersed!
My urn reversed!
Merc. Rise, rise, Augusta, rise!
And wipe thy weeping eyes:
Augusta!—for I call thee so:
'Tis lawful for the gods to know
Thy future name,
And growing fame.
Rise, rise, Augusta, rise.
Aug. O never, never will I rise,
Never will I cease my mourning,
Never wipe my weeping eyes,
Till my plighted lord's returning!
Never, never will I rise!
Merc. What brought thee, wretch, to this despair?
The cause of thy misfortune show.