MEROPE.
371
MEROPE.
O victor, victor, trip not at the goal!
POLYPHONTES.
Hatred and passionate envy blind thine eyes.
MEROPE.
Heaven-abandon'd wretch, that envies thee!
POLYPHONTES.
Thou hold'st so cheap, then, the Messenian crown?
MEROPE.
I think on what the future hath in store.
POLYPHONTES.
To-day I reign; the rest I leave to Fate.
MEROPE.
For Fate thou wait'st not long; since, in this hour ——
POLYPHONTES.
What? for so far Fate hath not proved my foe ——
MEROPE.
Fate seals my lips, and drags to ruin thee.
POLYPHONTES.
Enough! enough! I will no longer hear
The ill-boding note which frantic hatred sounds
To affright a fortune which the Gods secure.