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Dryden, John, 1631-1700

"The works of John Dryden, $c now first collected in eighteen volumes. $p Volume 02"

[_Exit_.

SCENE II.
ISMERON _asleep.--Enter_ ZEMPOALLA.

_Zemp_. Ho, Ismeron, Ismeron!
He stirs not; ha, in such a dismal cell
Can gentle sleep with his soft blessings dwell?
Must I feel tortures in a human breast,
While beasts and monsters can enjoy their rest?
What quiet they possess in sleep's calm bliss!
The lions cease to roar, the snakes to hiss,
While I am kept awake,
Only to entertain my miseries.
Or if a slumber steal upon my eyes,
Some horrid dream my labouring soul benumbs
And brings fate to me sooner than it comes.
Fears most oppress when sleep has seized upon
The outward parts, and left the soul alone.
What envied blessings these cursed things enjoy!
Next to possess, 'tis pleasure to destroy.
Ismeron! ho, Ismeron, Ismeron! [_Stamps_.
_Ism_. Who's that, that with so loud and fierce a call
Disturbs my rest?
_Zemp_. She, that has none at all,
Nor ever must, unless thy powerful art
Can charm the passions of a troubled heart.
_Ism_. How can you have a discontented mind,
To whom the gods have lately been so kind?
_Zemp_. Their envious kindness how can I enjoy,
When they give blessings, and the use destroy?
_Ism_. Dread empress, tell the cause of all your grief;
If art can help, be sure of quick relief.
_Zemp_.


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