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With thee in murder. Yes, my sins did help
[Tears his hair, and throws himself upon the body of
Douglas. Lord R. I know thee now : “ thy boldness I forgive:
My crest is fallen.” For thee I will appoint A place of rest, if grief will let thee rest. I will reward, altho' I cannot punish. Curs’d, curs'd Glenalvon, he escap'd too well, 770 Tho' slain and baffled by the hand he hated. Foaming with rage and fury to the last, Cursing his conqueror, the felon died.
Anna. My lord ! My lord !
Anna. Is no more :
Lord R. 'Twas I alas! 'twas I
Anna. Oh, had you seen her last despairing look!
Lord R. I will not vent, In vain complaints, the passion of my soul, Peace in this world I never can enjoy. "These wounds the gratitude of Randolph gave ; They speak aloud, and with the voice of fate Denounce my doom. I am resolv’d." I'll go Straight to the battle, where the man that makes 800 Me turn aside must threaten worse than death. Thou, faithful to thy mistress, take this ring, Full warrant of my power.
every rite With cost and pomp upon their funerals wait: For Randolph hopes he never shall return. [Exeunt. EPILOGUE.
An Epilogue I ask'd; but not one word Our bard will write. He vows 'tis most absurd With comic wit to contradict the strain Of tragedy and make your sorrows vain.
says, that pity is the best, And noblest passion of the human breast : For when its sacred streams the heart o'er-flow, In gushes pleasure with the tide of woe; And when its waves retire, like those of Nile, They leave behind him such a golden soil, That there the virtues without culture grow, There the sweet blossoms of affection blow. These were his words; void of delusive art, I felt them: for he spoke them from his heart. Nor will I now attempt, with witty folly, To chase away celestial melancholy.