folds of joy?

VARDANES.

This I will try, and stretch my utmost art,
Unknown is yet the means--We'll think on that--
Success may follow if you'll lend your aid.

LYSIAS.

The storm still rages--I must to the King,
And know what further orders ere he sleeps:
Soon I'll return, and speak my mind more fully.

VARDANES.

Haste, Lysias, haste, to aid me with thy council;
For without thee, all my designs will prove
Like night and chaos, darkness and confusion;
But to thy word shall light and order spring.--
Let coward Schoolmen talk of Virtue's rules,
And preach the vain Philosophy of fools;
Court eager their obscurity, afraid
To taste a joy, and in some gloomy shade
Dream o'er their lives, while in a mournful strain
They sing of happiness they never gain.
But form'd for nobler purposes I come,
To gain a crown, or else a glorious tomb.

_End of the Second Act._

ACT III.

SCENE I. _The Palace._

_QUEEN and EDESSA._

QUEEN.

Talk not of sleep to me, the God of Rest
Disdains to visit where disorder reigns;
Not beds of down, nor music's softest strains,
Can charm him when 'tis anarchy within.
He flies with eager haste the mind disturb'd,
And sheds his blessings where the soul's in peace.

EDESSA.

Yet, hear me, Madam!

QUEEN.

Hence, away, Edessa,
For thou know'st not the pangs of jealousy.
Say, has he not forsook my bed, and left me
Like a lone widow mourning to the night?
This, with the injury his son has done me,
If I forgive, may heav'n in anger show'r
Its torments on me--Ha! isn't that the King!

EDESSA.

It is your Royal Lord, great Artabanus.

QUEEN.

Leave me, for I would meet him here alone,
Something is lab'ring in my breast--

SCENE II.

_KING and QUEEN._

KING.

This leads
To fair Evanthe's chamber--Ha! the Queen.

QUEEN.

Why dost thou start? so starts the guilty wretch,
When, by some watchful eye, prevented from
His dark designs.

KING.

Prevented! how, what mean'st thou?

QUEEN.

Art thou then so dull? cannot thy heart,
Thy changeling heart, explain my meaning to thee,
Or must upbraiding 'wake thy apprehension?
Ah! faithless, tell me, have I lost those charms
Which thou so oft hast sworn could warm old age,
And tempt the frozen hermit from his cell,
To visit once again our gayer world?
This, thou hast sworn, perfidious as thou art,
A thousand times; as often hast thou s