As at the stroke of death, twice turn'd she pale; Bel. Alas, for pity! Oh! those speaking tears! you; With no one hand to help; and tell me then, Dum. And can she bear it? Can that delicate frame Endure the beating of a storm so rude? When she was mine, no care came ever nigh her; E 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 SCENE II. A Street. [Exeunt. Enter JANE SHORE, her Hair hanging loose on her Shoulders, and barefooted. J. Shore. Yet, yet endure, nor murmur, O, my soul! For are not thy transgressions great and numberless? And press thee like a weight of waters down? And lay thee down in death. that late pursued me, Sinks like the murmurs of a falling wind, And softens into silence. Does revenge And malice then grow weary, and forsake me? [She knocks at the Door. Is your lady, Enter a SERVANT. My gentle friend, at home? Oh! bring me to her. [Going in. Serv. Hold, mistress, whither would you? J. Shore. Do you not know me? Serv. I know you well, and know my orders, too: You must not enter here. J. Shore. Tell my Alicia, "Tis I would see her. Serv. She is ill at ease, And will admit no visitor. J. Shore. But tell her, "Tis I, her friend, the partner of her heart, Wait at the door and beg― Serv. 'Tis all in vain,Go hence, and howl to those that will regard you. [Shuts the Door, and exit. J. Shore. It was not always thus; the time has been, When this unfriendly door, that bars my passage, Flew wide, and almost leap'd from off its hinges, To give me entrance here; When my approach was made a little holiday, And every face was dress'd in smiles to meet me: But now 'tis otherwise; and those, who bless'd me, Now curse me to my face. Why should I wander, Stray further on, for I can die ev'n here! [She sits down at the Door. Enter ALICIA in disorder. Alicia. What wretch art thou, whose misery and baseness, Hangs on my door; whose hateful whine of woe One driv'n by strong calamity to seek For succours here; one perishing for want, A draught of water and a little bread. Alicia. 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 scatter'd it, And hungry vulture, where they wind the prey; Has thought unhappy Shore her dearest blessing, me; Inclining fondly to me she has sworn, She loved me more than all the world besides. Alicia. Ha! say'st thou ! Let me look upon thee well "Tis true-I know thee now-A mischief on thee! Thou art that fatal fair, that cursed she, That set my brain a madding. Thou hast robb'd me? J. Shore. Alas! I never wrong'd thee- -Oh! bestow Some poor remain, the voiding of thy table! I trusted all; gave my whole store to you, Alicia. Nay! tell me not! Where is thy king, thy And all the smiling, cringing train of courtiers, J. Shore. Oh! for mercy y! Alicia. Mercy! I know it not-for I am miserable. I'll give thee misery, for here she dwells. This is her house, where the sun never dawns, I will not linger long behind thee here. Away! I go, I fly! I follow thee! [She runs off J. Shore. Alas! she raves; her brain, I fear, is turn'd. In mercy look upon her, gracious Heav'n, Nor visit her for any wrong to me. Sure I am near my journey's end; My head runs round, my eyes begin to fail, I can no more -[Lies down.]—receive me, thou cold earth, Thou common parent, take me to thy bosom, Enter BELMour. Bel. Upon the ground! Thy miseries can never lay thee lower. |