Yet, silent still she passed, and unrepining; You know my care was wholly bent on you, And drive all succour from her. Dum. Let them threaten; Let proud oppression prove its fiercest malice; Dum. I do. Bel. And have you thought upon the conse- Dum. What is there I should fear? Into your inmost heart, and tried at leisure To conjure up my wrongs to life again? To arm you for the meeting: better were it Dum. O thou hast set my busy brain at work, Which I have left unsought to deck her beauty? What could herking do more?-And yet she fled. Bel. Away with that sad fancy Dum. Oh, that day! The thought of it must live for ever with me. As at the stroke of death, twice turned she pale, While down her cheeks two gushing torrents ran, Fast falling on her hands, which thus she wrungMoved at her grief, the tyrant ravisher, With courteous action, wooed her oft to turn; Earnest he seemed to plead, but all in vain: Even to the last she bent her sight towards me, And followed me-till I had lost myself. Bel. Alas! for pity! Oh! those speaking tears! Could they be false? Did she not suffer with you? For though the king by force possessed her per son, Her unconsenting heart still dwelt with you: Hunted to death, distressed on every side, Dum. And can she bear it? can that delicate frame Endure the beating of a storm so rude? Can she Entreat for bread, and want the needful raiment, To wrap her shivering bosom from the weather? When she was mine, no care came ever nigh her; I thought the gentlest breeze, that wakes the spring, Too rough to breathe upon her; chearfulness Danced all the day before her, and at night Soft slumbers waited on her downy pillowNow sad and shelterless, perhaps, she lies, Where piercing winds blow sharp, and the chill rain Drops from some pent-house on her wretched head, Drenches her locks, and kills her with the cold. It is too much-Hence with her past offences! They are atoned at full-Why stay we, then? Oh let us haste, my friend, and find her out. Bel. Somewhere about this quarter of the town, I hear the poor abandoned creature lingers: Her guard, though set with strictest watch to keep All food and friendship from her, yet permit her To wander in the streets, there choose her bed, And rest her head on what cold stone she pleases. Dum. Here let us then divide; each in his round To search her sorrows out; whose hap it is First to behold her, this way let him lead Her fainting steps, and meet we here together. [Exeunt. Enter JANE SHORE, her hair hanging loose on her shoulders, and bare-footed. J. Sh. Yet, yet endure, nor murmur, oh, my soul! For are not thy transgressions great and numberless? Do they not cover thee like rising floods, me, Sinks like the murmurs of a falling wind, When my approaches made a little holiday, me, Now curse me to my face. Why should I wander, Stray further on, for I can die even here! [She sits down at the door. Enter ALICIA in disorder, two Servants following. Alic. What wretch art thou, whose misery Hang on my door; whose hateful whine of woe J. Sh. A very beggar, and a wretch, indeed; And humbly asks, for charity's dear sake, Alic. And dost thou come to me, to me for bread? I know thee not-Go-hunt for it abroad, Where wanton hands upon the earth have scattered it, Or cast it on the waters-Mark the eagle Has thought unhappy Shore her dearest blessing, Alic. Nay! tell not me! Where is thy king, thy Edward, And all the smiling cringing train of courtiers, That bent the knee before thee? J. Sh. Oh! for mercy! Alic. Mercy! I know it not-for I am miserable. I'll give thee misery, for here she dwells; Hark! something cracks above! it shakes, it totters! And see, the nodding ruin falls to crush me! 'Tis fallen, 'tis here! I felt it on my brain! 1 Ser. This sight disorders her 2 Ser. Retire, dear lady And leave this woman Alic. Let her take my counsel: J. Sh. Ah, Belmour! where indeed? The stand aloof, And view my desolation from afar! And cry, behold the harlot and her end! Bel. Yet raise thy drooping head; for I am come To chase away despair. Behold! where yonder That honest man, that faithful, brave Dumont, Is hasting to thy aid J. Sh. Dumont! ha! where! [Raising herself, and looking aghest. Then Heaven has heard my prayer; his very name Renews the springs of life, and cheers my soul. Why shouldst thou be a wretch? Stab, tear thy Has he then 'scaped the snare? heart, And rid thyself of this detested being! A waving flood of bluish fire swells o'er me- It is my Hastings! see, he wafts me on! [She runs off, her servants following. J. Sh. Alas! she raves; her brain, I fear, is turned. In mercy look upon her, gracious Heaven, Thou common parent, take me to thy bosom, Enter BELMOUR. Bel. Upon the ground! Thy miseries can never lay thee lower. The dear companions of thy joyful days, Whose hearts thy warm prosperity made glad, Whose arms were taught to grow like ivy round thee, And bind thee to their bosoms? Thus with thee, Thus let us live, and let us die, they said, Bel. He has; but see He comes unlike to that Dumont you knew; For now he wears your better angel's form, And comes to visit you with peace and pardon Enter SHORE. J. Sh. Speak, tell me! Which is he? And ha! what would This dreadful vision! see it comes upon me-It is my husband--Ah! [She swoons Sh. She faints! support her! Sustain her head, while I infuse this cordial Into her dying lips-from spicy drugs, Rich herbs and flowers, the potent juice s drawn ; With wondrous force it strikes the lazy spirits, Drives them around, and wakens life anew. Bel. Her weakness could not bear the strong surprise. But see, she stirs! And the returning blood Sh. So-gently raise her- [Raising her up- J. Sh. My heart is thrilled with horror- Your husband lives! 'tis he, my worthiest friend J. Sh. Still art thou there! Still dost thou ho ver round me ! Oh, save me, Belmour, from his angry shade! Bel. 'Tis he himself! he lives! look upJ. Sh. I dare not! Oh! that my eyes could shut him out for ever! Sh. Am I so hateful, then, so deadly to thee, To blast thy eyes with horror? Since I'm grown A burthen to the world, myself, and thee, Would I had ne'er survived to see thee more! J. Sh. Oh! thou most injured-dost thou live, indeed! Fall then, ye mountains, on my guilty head; ! Hide me, ye rocks, within your secret caverns; Why thus indulge thy fears, and in despair, J. Sh. No, arm thy brow with vengeance, and The minister of Heaven's inquiring justice. Sh. The measure of thy sorrows is complete! And I am come to snatch thee from injustice. The hand of power no more shall crush thy weakness, Nor proud oppression grind thy humble soul. Thy shroud is fallen from off thee, and the grave Sh. Waste not thy feeble spirits-I have long J. Sh. Alas! I'm wondrous faint: But that's not strange; I have not cat these three days. Sh. Oh, merciless! Look here, my love, I've brought thee Some rich conserves J. Sh. How can you be so good? But you were ever thus. I well remember With what fond care, what diligence of love, You lavished out your wealth to buy me plea sures, Preventing every wish; have you forgot you? Sh. Taste some of this, or thisJ. Sh. You are strangely altered Say, gentle Belmour, is he not? How pale J. Sh. My feeble jaws forget their common My tasteless tongue cleaves to the clammy roof, Sh. Thou murderous sorrow! Wilt thou still drink her blood, pursue her still! Must she then die! Oh, my poor penitent! Speak peace to my sad heart: she hears me not; Grief masters every sense-help me to hold her! Enter CATESBY, with a guard. Cat. Seize on them both, as traitors to the state! Bel. What means this violence?- [Guards lay hold on SHORE and BELMOUR. Cat. Have we not found you, In scorn of the protector's strict command, Sh. Infamy on thy head! And she that bore thee was an Æthiop to her. Cat. You'll answer this at full-Away with them! Sh. Is charity grown treason to your court? What honest man would live beneath such rulers! I am content that we should die together Cat. Convey the men to prison; but for her, Leave her to hunt her fortune as she may. J. Sh. I will not part with him-for me!-for me! Oh! must he die for me! [Following him as he is carried off-She falls. Sh. Inhuman villains! [Breaking from the guards. Stand off! The agonies of death are on herShe pulls, she gripes me hard with her cold hand. J. Sh. Was this blow wanting to complete my ruin? Oh! let him go, ye ministers of terror! Sh. Oh, my love! Why have I lived to see this bitter moment, J. Sh. Forgive me!-but forgive me! Accords to thee, and begs of Heaven to shew | The light that cheered my soul? Oh, heavy hour! But I will fix my trembling lips to thine, 'Till I am cold and senseless quite, as thou art. What, must we part, then?——will you—— (To the guards taking him away. Fare thee well[Kissing her. Now execute your tyrant's will, and lead me To bonds, or death, 'tis equally indifferent. Bel. Let those who view this sad example, know, What fate attends the broken marriage vow; And teach their children, in succeeding times, No common vengeance waits upon these crimes, When such severe repentance could not save From want, from shame, and an untimely grave. [Exeunt omnes. EPILOGUE. YE modest matrons all, ye virtuous wives, 'Twas well he met a kind, good-natur'd soul, "Blockhead! as if I must not see a friend: "Tell me of hackney-coaches-jaunts to th' city "Where should I buy my china? Faith, I'll fit ye." Our wife was of a milder, meeker spirit; You! lords and masters!-Was not that some merit? Don't you allow it to be virtuous bearing, But so do many more who look demurely. |