Second PROPHET. And though no temple richly drest, Nor sacrifice is here; We'll make his temple in our breast, And offer up a tear. [The first stanza repeated by the CHORUS. Second PROPHET. Recitative. That strain once more: it bids remembrance rise, Air. O Memory, thou fond deceiver ! Still importunate and vain; To former joys recurring ever, And turning all the past to pain; Hence, intruder, most distressing, The wretch who wants each other blessing, Ever wants a friend in thee. First PROPHET. Recitative. Yet, why complain? What, though by bonds confin'd, Should bonds repress the vigour of the mind? Have we not cause for triumph, when we see And as our fortune sinks, our wishes soar. Air. The triumphs that on vice attend The good man suffers but to gain, As aromatic plants bestow No spicy fragrance while they grow, Second PROPHET. Recitative. But hush, my sons! our tyrant lords are near; Near, nearer still, it gathers on the gale; The growing sound their swift approach declares ;Desist, my sons, nor mix the strain with theirs. Enter CHALDEAN PRIESTS, attended. First PRIEST. Air. Come on, my companions, the triumph display; Let rapture the minutes employ ; The sun calls us out on this festival day, Second PRIEST. Like the sun, our great monarch all rapture supplies, The sun with his splendour illumines the skies, A Chaldean WOMAN. Air. Haste, ye sprightly sons of pleasure ; A Chaldean ATTENDANT. Or rather Love's delights despising, Haste to raptures ever rising: Wine shall bless the brave and free. First PRIEST. Wine and beauty thus inviting, Whither shall my choice incline? Second PRIEST. I'll waste no longer thought in choosing ; I'll make them both together mine. Recitative. But whence, when joy should brighten o'er the land, Second PROPHET. Bow'd down with chains, the scorn of all mankind, Is this a time to bid us raise the strain, First PRIEST. Insulting slaves! if gentler methods fail, [Exeunt CHALDEANS. First PROPHET. Why, let them come, one good remains to cheer; Chorus. Can whips or tortures hurt the mind [Exeunt. ACT II. Scene as before. Chorus of ISRAELITES. O peace of mind, angelic guest! Wing all our thoughts to reach the skies, First PRIEST. Recitative. No more! Too long has justice been delay'd; You spurn the favours offer'd at his hand; |