« PreviousContinue »
At my sword's point, to have reveng'd my father, To have beaten 'em.-Oh! hold me hard :--but,
uncleCar. Thou shalt live still, I hope, boy. Shall I
draw it? Hengo. You draw away my soul then. I would live A little longer (spare me, heav'n!) but only To thank you for your tender love, good uncle. Good, noble uncle, weep not. Car. Oh!
chicken! My dear boy! what shall I lose?
Hengo. Why, a child, That must have died however, had this 'scap'd me, Fever or famine. I was born to die, sir.
Car. But thus unblown, my boy
Hengo. I go the straighter My journey to the gods. Sure I shall know you When you come, my
Hengo. And I hope
Car. Most certain, child.
Hengo. I grow cold; Mine eyes are going.
Car. Lift 'em up.
Hengo. Pray for me.
Car. Mercy! You blessed angels take him.
Hengo. Kiss me! soFarewell! farewell!
[Dies. Car. Farewell the hopes of Britain ! Thou royal graft, farewell for ever! Time and Death, You've done your worst.–Fortune, now see, now
proudly Pluck off thy veil, and view thy triumph. Look, Look what th' hast brought this land to. Oh! fair
NO RIVALSHIP OR TAINT OF FAITH ADMISSIBLE IN
FROM THE CUSTOM OF THE COUNTRY.
Zenocia to Arnoldo.
SHOULD you lay by the least part of that love You've sworn is mine, your youth and faith have
given me, To entertain another, nay, a fairer, And make the case thus desperate, she must die also. D'ye think I would give way, or count this honest ? Be not deceiv'd; these eyes should never see you
more, This tongue forget to name you, and this heart Hate you as if you were born my full antipathy: Empire and more imperious love alone
Rule and admit no rivals. The pure springs,
ARNOLDO TEMPTED BY HYPOLITA.
FROM THE SAME.
Arn. Fy, stand off ; And give me leave more now than e'er to wonder A building of so goodly a proportion, Outwardly all exact, the frame of heaven, Should hide within so base inhabitants. You are as fair as if the morning bare you, Imagination never made a sweeter
Be excellent in all as you are outward:
Arn. Not for your beauty; ;
Nor for your wealth, although the world kneel to it,
SCENE IN THE COMEDY OF MONSIEUR THOMAS.
Valentine having formed the noble resolution of giving up his
mistress Cellide to preserve the life of his friend Francis, who, is in love with her, is supposed to hear the following dialogue, unknown to Francis.
Francis. Bless me, what beams
What a most studied torment 'tis to me now
Francis. You are a fair physician;
death lies! Cellide. I would be sorry, sir, my charity, And my good wishes for your health, should merit So stubborn a construction. Will it please you To taste a little of this cordial ?
[Enter VALENTINE privately. For this I think must cure you.
Francis. Of which, lady. Sure she has found my grief.-Why do you blush so? Cellide. Do you not understand? of this, this
cordial. Valentine. Oh, my afflicted heart! she's gone for
ever Fran. What heaven you have brought me, lady!
Cel. Do not wonder: For 'tis not impudence, nor want of honour, Makes me do this, but love to save your life, sir, Your life, too excellent to lose in wishesLove, virtuous love!
Fran. A virtuous blessing crown you! Oh, goodly sweet! can there be so much charity,
1 Valentine is supposed to remain undiscovered, and his speeches not to be heard by Francis and Cellide.