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AMYNTAS.
The dart of Sylvia on the ground I saw;
And near it I beheld her snowy veil,
Which my own hands adjusted to her head.
Examining the ground with eager eyes,
A scene of greater horrour I surveyed;
I saw seven hungry wolves feasting on blood;
And near it, stripped of flesh, some bones lay scattered.
Intent upon their prey, they spied not me,
So fortunate I was: I hied me back,
Sore dreading for my friend, and spurred with fear.
No fuller tidings can I give of Sylvia;
Each monument of a departed friend
Is dear; her veil I brought; lo! here it is.
And near it I beheld her snowy veil,
Which my own hands adjusted to her head.
Examining the ground with eager eyes,
A scene of greater horrour I surveyed;
I saw seven hungry wolves feasting on blood;
And near it, stripped of flesh, some bones lay scattered.
Intent upon their prey, they spied not me,
So fortunate I was: I hied me back,
Sore dreading for my friend, and spurred with fear.
No fuller tidings can I give of Sylvia;
Each monument of a departed friend
Is dear; her veil I brought; lo! here it is.
AMYNTAS.
No fuller tidings! thou hast told enough!
Oh! blood, Oh! veil, Oh! Sylvia, thou art dead!
No fuller tidings! thou hast told enough!
Oh! blood, Oh! veil, Oh! Sylvia, thou art dead!
DAPHNE.
He faints; the sudden shock of grief hath stopped
He faints; the sudden shock of grief hath stopped
The
