Evanthe monologue (Act 3) — The Prince of Parthia: A Tragedy

Come, then, my much-lov'd Prince, Let's seek the shelter of some kind retreat. Happy Arabia opens wide her arms, There may we find some friendly solitude, Far from the noise and hurry of the Court. Ambitious views shall never blast our joys, Or tyrant Fathers triumph o'er our wills: There may we live like the first happy pair Cloth'd in primeval innocence secure. Our food untainted by luxurious arts, Plain, simple, as our lives, shall not destroy The health it should sustain; while the clear brook Affords the cooling draught our thirsts to quench. There, hand in hand, we'll trace the citron grove, While with the songsters' round I join my voice, To hush thy cares and calm thy ruffl'd soul: Or, on some flow'ry bank reclin'd, my strains Shall captivate the natives of the stream, While on its crystal lap ourselves we view.