The Distrest Mother/Act 2, Scene 3

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SCENE III.

Orestes, alone.

Then is Orestes blest! My Griefs are fled!
Fled like a Dream!———Methinks I tread in Air!
Pyrrhus, enamour'd of his Captive Queen,
Will thank me, if I take her Rival hence:
He looks not on the Princess with my Eyes!
Surprizing Happiness! unlook'd for Joy!
Never let Love despair!———The Prize is mine!
Be smooth, ye Seas; and, ye propitious Winds,
Breathe from Epirus to the Spartan Coasts!
 ​I long to view the Sails unfurl'd———But, see!
Pyrrhus approaches in a happy Hour.

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