Volume 1 — ACHILLES,[39]
Reading edition
ACHILLES,[39]
A
CANZONET.
RECITATIVE.
Achilles roams the damp and sounding shore, Nor hears th’ approaching tempest’s sullen roar; Indignant mourns, by rage and anguish toss’d, His honour stain’d, his fair Briseis is lost!
AIR.—Bass.
Mix’d with the rising wind his groan;— Mark it, proud Troy! the welcome sound Respites thine altars and thy throne, Tho’ fierce Tydides thunder round.
AIR.—Amoroso.
ACHILLES.
“My Maid, my black-eyed Maid,” deprived of thee, Life has no joy, and love no charm for me!
AIR.—Bravoura.
Tyrant, ’tis well!—in baffled combat long Thy vanquish’d myriads shall avenge this wrong!
PRECEDING AIR RESUMED.
But ah! nor love, nor glory, now I boast, Brightly they shone, now darken’d each, and lost.
CHORUS.
Hero, to thee shall great revenge remain, And Grecian armies strew the Trojan plain!