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Dum. Here let us then divide; each in his When my approaches made a little holiday,
And every face was dressed in smiles to meet me:
me, Her fainting steps, and meet we here together. Now curse me to my face. Why should I wander,
(Ereunt. Stray further on, for I can die even here !
!She sits down at the door. Enter JANE SHORE, her hair hanging loose on her shoulders, and bare-footed.
Enter Alicia in disorder, two Servants followJ. Sh. Yet, yet endure, nor murmur, oh, my
ing soul !
Alic. What wretch art thou, whose misery
Hang on my door; whose hateful whine of woe
Alic. And dost thou come to me, to me for
J. Sh. And yet there was a time, when my
Alicia My spirits fail at once- This is the door Has thought unhappy Shore her dearest blessing, of my Alicia-Blessed opportunity!
And mourned the live-long day she passed withI'll steal a little succour from her goodness,
out me; Now while no eye observes me.
When, paired like turtles, we were still toge[She knocks at the door.
When often, as we prattled arm in arm,
Inclining fondly to me, she has sworn,
She loved me more than all the world besides. My gentle friend, at home? Oh! bring me to her! Alic. Ha! say'st thou! Let me look upon
thee well Ser. Hold, mistress, whither would you? 'Tis true I know thee now-A mischief on (Pushing her back.
thee! J. Sh. Do you know me?
Thou art that fatal fair, that cursed she, Ser. I know you well, and know my orders, That set my brain a madding. Thou hast robbed too:
me; You must not enter here
Thou hast undone me
-Murder! Oh, my J. Sh. Tell my Alicia,
Hastings ! 'Tis I would see her.
See his pale bloody head shoots glaring by me! Ser. She is ill at ease,
Give me him back again, thou soft deluder, And will admit no visitor,
Thou beauteous witch ! J. Sh. But tell her
J. Sh. Alas! I never wronged you'Tis I, her friend, the partner of her heart, Oh! then be good to me; have pity on me; Wait at the door and beg
Thou never knew'st the bitterness of want, Ser. 'Tis all in vain
And may'st thou never know it. Oh! bestow Go hence, and howl to those that will regard you. Some poor remain, the voiding of thy table,
(Shuts the door, and exit. A morsel to support my famished soul !
J. Sh. To thy hand
Alic. Nay! tell not me! Where is thy king, J. Sh. Ah, Belmour! where indeed? They thy Edward,
stand aloof, And all the smiling cringing train of courtiers, And view my desolation from afar! That bent the knee before thee?
When they pass by, they shake their heads in J. Sh. Oh! for mercy!
scorn, Alic. Mercy! I know it not--for I am miser- And cry, behold the harlot and her end! able.
And yet thy goodness turns aside to pity me. I'll give thee misery, for here she dwells; Alas! there may be danger; get thee gone! This is her house, where the sun never dawns; Let me not pull a ruin on thy
head. The bird of night sits screaming o'er the roof, Leave me to die alone, for I'am fallen Grim spectres sweep along the horrid gloom, Never to rise, and all relief is vain. And nought is heard but wailings and lament- Bel. Yet raise thy drooping head; for 1 an
ings. Hark! something cracks above! it shakes, it To chase away despair. Behold! where yonder totters !
That honest man, that faithful, brave Dumont, And see, the nodding ruin falls to crush me! Is hasting to thy aid 'Tis fallen, 'tis here! I felt it on my brain !
J. Sh. Dumont! ha! where ! 1 Ser. This sight disorders her
[Raising herself, and looking egtesi 2 Ser. Retire, dear lady
Then Heaven has heard my prayer; his tery And leave this womanAlic. Let her take my counsel :
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,
Bel. He has; but see And rid thyself of this detested being!
He comes unlike to that Dumont you know; I will not linger long behind thee here.
For now he wears your better angel's form, A waving food of bluish fire swells o'er me And comes to visit you with peace and pardon And now 'tis out, and I am drown'd in blood. Ha! what art thou? thou horrid headless
Enter SHORE. trunk
J. Sk. Speak, tell me! Which is he? And la! It is my Hastings ! see, he wafts me on!
what would Away! I go, I Hy! I follow thee!
This dreadful vision ! see it comes upon De But come not thou, with mischief-making beauty, It is my husband Ah! (She same To interpose between us! look not on him! Sh. She faints ! support her! Give thy fond arts and thy delusions o'er, Sustain her head, while I infuse this cordial For thou shalt never, never part us more. Into her dying lips—from spicy drugs,
[She runs off, her servants following. Rich herbs and flowers, the potent juice is J. Sh. Alas! she raves ; her brain, I fear, is
drawn; turned. With wondrous force it strikes the lazy spirits
, In meroy look upon her, gracious Heaven, Drives them around, and wakens life anew. Nor yisit her for any wrong to me.
Bel. Her weakness could not bear the strong Sure I am near upon my journey's end;
surprise. My head runs round, my eyes begin to fail, But see, she stirs ! And the returning blood And dancing shadows swim before my sight. Faintly begins to blush again, and kindle I can no more. (Lies down.] Receive me, thou Upon her ashy cheekcold earth,
Sh. So gently raise her (Raising here. Thou common parent, take me to thy bosom, J. Sh. Ha! What art thou? Belmour! And let me rest with thee.
Bel. How fare you, lady?
J. Sh. My heart is thrilled with horrorEnter BELMOUR.
Bel. Be of courageBel. Upon the ground!
Your husband lives! 'tis he, my werthies: Thy miseries can never lay thee lower.
afflicted one! thou mourner, J. Sh. Still art thou there! Still dost throw be Whom none has comforted! Where are thy
ver round me! friends,
Oh, save me, Belmour, from his angry shade! The dear companions of thy joyful days,
Bel. 'Tis he himself! he lives ! look upWhose hearts thy warm prosperity made glad, J. Sh. I dare not! Whose arms were taught to grow like ivy round Oh! that my eyes could shut him out for ever! thee,
Sh. Am I so hateful, then, so deadly to cher. And bind thee to their bosoms? Thus with To blast thy eyes with borror? Since I'm growt thee,
A burthen to the world, myself, and thee, Thus let us live, and let us die, they said, Would I had ne'er survived to see thee more! For such thou art, the sister of our loves,
J. Sh. Oh! thou most injured-dost thou die, And nothing shall divide us. Now where are
Fall then, ye mountains, on iny guilty bead;
Hide me, ye rocks, within your secret caverns ; Say, gentle Belmour, is he not? How pale
Your visage is become! Your eyes are hollow;
And many a bitter pang, since last we parted. Why thus indulge thy fears, and in despair, Sh. No more of that- -Thou talk'st, but Abandon thy distracted soul to horror?
dost not eat.
Ob! I am sick at heart!-
Sh. Thou murderous sorrow!
Must she then die! Oh, my poor penitent!
Grief masters every sense help me to hold ber!
Enter CATESBY, with a guard.
Cat, Seize on them both, as traitors to the
state! And I am come to snatch thee from injustice.
Bel. What means this violence?-
Cat. Have we not found you,
And she that bore thee was an Æthiop to her. And weep my gratitude for ever there;
Cat. You'll answer this at feellAway with
Leave her to hunt her fortune as she may.
Oh! must he die for me!
(Following him as he is carried off-She falls.
(Breaking from the guards. J. Sh. What shall I say to you? But I obey- Stand off! The agonies of death are on her Sh. Lean on my arm
She pulls, she gripes me hard with her cold hand. J. Sh. Alas! I'm wondrous faint:
J. Sh. Was this blow wanting to complete my But that's not strange; I have not eat these
ruin? three days.
Oh! let him go, ye ministers of terror! Sh. Oh, merciless! Look here, my love, I've He shall offend no more, for I will die, brought thee
And yield obedience to your cruel master.-
Tarry a little, but a little longer,
And take my last breath with you.
Why have I lived to see this bitter moment, You lavished out your wealth to buy me plea- This grief, by far surpassing all my former?' sures,
Why dost thou fix thy dying eyes upon me,
J. Sh. Forgive me!-but forgive me !
Sh. Be witness for me, ye celestial host,
Such mercy and such pardon as my soud
Accords to thee, and begs of Heaven to shew The light that cheered my soul? Oh, heavy thee,
hour! May such befall me at my latest hour,
But I will fix my trembling lips to thine, And make my portion blest or curs’d for ever! 'Till I am cold and senseless quite, as thou art. J. Sh. Then all is well, and I shall sleep in What, must we part, then ?->will you— peace
(To the guards taking him aroy. 'Tis very dark, and I have lost you now
Fare thee well
(Kissing her, Was there not something I would have be- Now execute your tyrant's will, and lead me queathed you?
To bonds, or death, 'tis equally indifferent. But I have nothing left me to bestow,
Bel. Let those who view this sad example, Nothing but one sad sigh. Oh! mercy, Heaven !
(Dies. What fate attends the broken marriage vow; Bel. There fled the soul,
And teach their children, in succeeding times, And left her load of misery behind.
No common vengeance waits upon these crine, Sh. Oh, my heart's treasure! Is this pale sad When such severe repentance could not save visage
From want, from shame, and an untimely grave. All that remains of thee? Are these dead eyes
Ye modest matrons all, ye virtuous wives, You ! lords and masters !-Was not that sorse Who lead, with horrid husbands, decent lives;
merit? You, who, for all you are in such a taking, Don't you allow it to be virtuous bearing, To see your spouses drinking, gaming, raking, When we submit thus to your domineering? Yet make a conscience still of cuckold-making ; Well, peace be with her, she did wrong most What can we say your pardon to obtain?
surely; This matter here was prov'd against poor Jane : But so do many more who look demurely. She never once denied it; but, in short,
Nor should our mourning madam weep alone, Whimper'd-and cry'd—“Sweet sir, I'm sorry There are more ways of wickedness than one. for't.”
If the reforming stage should fall to shaming 'Twas well he met a kind, good-natur’d soul, Ill-nature, pride, hypocrisy, and gaming; We are not all so easy to controul :
The poets frequently might move compassion, I fancy one might find in this good town, And with she-tragedies o'er-run the nation. Some would ha' told the gentleman his own; Then judge the fair offender with good-nature, Have answer'd swart—“To what do you pre And let your fellow-feeling curb your satire. tend,
What, if our neighbours have some little failing, “ Blockhead! as if I must not see a friend: Must we needs fall to damning and to railing? “ Tell me of hackney-coaches jaunts to th' For her excuse too, be it understood, city
That if the woman was not quite so good, “ Where should I buy my china ? Faith, I'll fit Her lover was a king, she flesh and blood.
And since sh’has dearly paid the sinful score, Our wife was of a milder, meeker spirit; Be kind at last, and pity poor Jane Shore.
LADY JANE GRAY.
TO-NICHT the noblest subject swells our scene,
Your eyes shall tell us how the tale is writ. - If your soft pity waits upon our woe,
If silent tears for suff'ring virtue flow;
The lively passions, and the just distress. so Oh, could our author's pencil justly paint,
Such as she was in life, the beauteous saint!
For these she fell, while, with too weak a hand.
SENT BY AN UNKNOWN HAND.
When waking terrors rouse the guilty breast, A brave contempt of life, and grandeur lost :
With gen'rous scorn she lays the sceptre down;