I

see,

QUEEN.

I see my hands imbru'd

In purple streams of reeking blood:
I see the victim gasp for breath,
And start in agonies of death:
I see my raging, dying lord,
And, oh! I see myself abhorr'd!

PAGE.

My eyes o'erflow, my heart is rent
To hear Britannia's queen lament.

QUEEN.

What shall my trembling soul pursue?

PAGE.

Behold, great queen, the place in view!

3. QUEEN.

Ye pow'rs instruct me what to do!

} PAGE.

That bow'r will show

The guilty foe,¦..

QUEEN.

[Aside.

-It is decreed-it shall be so; [After a pause. "I cannot see my lord repine

(O that I could call him mine!)

Why have not they most charms to move,
Whose bosoms burn with purest love!"

PAGE.

Her heart with rage and fondness glows.
O jealousy thou hell of woes!

That conscious scene of love contains
The fatal cause of all your pains;

In yonder flow'ry vale she lies,

Where those fair-blossom'd arbors rise.

[Aside.

The pangs of love
Ye pow'rs remove,

Or dart your thunder at my head:
Love and despair

What heart can bear?

Ease my soul, or strike me dead!"

[Exeunt.

The Scene changes to the Pavilion as before.

66

Transporting pleasure!, who can tell it!
When our longing eyes discover/
The kind, the dear, approaching lover,
Who can utter, or conceal it!"

old ytsa!
75

A sudden motion shakes the grove: O
I hear the steps of him I love;
Prepare, my soul, to meet thy bliss!!
-Death to my eyes; what sight is this!
The queen, th offended queen I see;
Open, O earth! and swallow me!

Enter to her, the Queen with a Bowl in one hand, and ya Dagger in the other. QUE EEN.

Thus arm'd with double death I come:
Behold, vain wretch, behold thy doom!
Thy crimes to their full period tend,
And soon by this, or this, shall end.

ROSAMOND.

What shall I say, or how reply
To threats of injur'd' majesty?

1

'Tis guilt that does thy tongue control.
Or quickly drain the fatal bowl,
Or this right hand performs its part,
And plants a dagger in thy heart.

ROSA MOND.

Can Britain's queen give such commands,
Or dip in blood those sacred hands?
In her shall such revenge be seen?
Far be that from Britain's queen!

QUEEN.

How black does my design appear?
Was ever mercy so severe !

1.1, 6 ROSA MOND.'

[Aside.

"When tides of youthful blood run high, And scenes of promis'd joys are high, Health presuming,

Beauty blooming,

Oh how dreadful 'tis to die Polo A
• QUEEN. 212 920 modi

To those whom foul dishonours stain,
Life itself should be a pain.o at C
ROSAMOND. P

Who could resist great Henry's charms,
And drive the hero from her arms?

"Think on the soft, the tender fires,
Melting thoughts, and gay desires,
That in your own warm bosom rise,
When languishing with love sick eyes m
That great, that charming man you see:
Think on yourself, and pity me!"

QUEENTH b‍uon ›
And dost thou thus thy guilt deplore!!

[Offering the dagger to her breast. Presumptuous woman! plead no more!

ROSAMOND.

O queen, your lifted arm restrain!
Behold these tears!

Hope not a day's, an hour's reprieve.!

-1. ROSAMON D.

Though I live wretched, let me live.
In some deep dungeon let me lie,
Cover'd from ev'ry human eye,
Banish'd the day, debarr'd the light;
Where shades of everlasting night
May this unhappy face disarm,
And cast a veil o'er ev'ry charm:
Offended heaven I'll there adore,
Nor see the sun, nor Henry more.

QUEEN!!!

Moving language, shining tears, Glowing guilt, and graceful fears, Kindling pity, kindling rage,

At once provoke me, and assuage." [Aside.

Give me but one short moment's stay.

-O Henry, why so far away?

QUEEN. ཎྞེ་

Prepare to welter in a flood

[Aside.

Of streaming gore. [Offering the dagger.

ROSAMOND.

O spare my blood,

And let me grasp the deadly bowl.

[Takes the bowl in her hand.

QUEEN.

Ye pow'rs, how pity rends my soul! [Aside.

ROSAMONd.

Thus prostrate at your feet I fall.
O let me still for mercy call!«

66

[Falling on her knees. Accept, great queen, like injur'd heaven, The soul that begs to be forgiven:

If in the latest gasp of breath,

If in the dreadful pains of death, renT
When the cold damp bedews your brow,
You hope for mercy, show it now."
D QUEEN.

Mercy to lighter crimes is due,

Horrors and death shall thine pursue.

[Offering the dagger.

SOME GROSAMOND.

Thus I prevent the fatal blow.

-Whither, ah! whither shall I go!

QUEEN.

Where thy past life thou shalt lament,
And wish thou hadst been innocent.

{] "Waniek DROSAMOND.

Tyrant! to aggravate the stroke,
And wound a heart already broke!
My dying soul with fury burns,
And slighted grief to madness turns.
"Think not, thou author of my woe,
That Rosamond will leave thee so:
At dead of night,

A glaring sprite,
With hideous screams

I'll haunt thy dreams,

[Drinks.

And when the painful night withdraws,
My Henry shall revenge my cause."
O whither does my phrensy drive!
Forgive my rage, your wrongs forgive.
My veins are froze; my blood grows chill;
The weary springs of life stand still;