Cherish this beauteous mourner, take her from me, As the last present of a dying friend. King E. If aught could make the precious gift more dear, It would be, Warwick, that it came from thee. The hand of death press cold upon my heart, King E. Alas! my friend, the memory of thee bliss. Warw. All-healing time, That closes every wound, shall pour its balm King E. Let ev'ry honour, to a soldier due, Lady E. G. Warwick, farewell! I shall not long survive thee. King E. I hope thou wilt-Elizabeth, remember His dying charge, think on thy promise giv❜n. Thou shalt remain with me, with me lament Our common benefactor; we will sit And talk together of my Warwick's virtues, For I will try to emulate them all, And learn, by copying him, to merit thee. His great example shall inspire my breast With patriot zeal-shall teach me to subdue The pow'r of faction, vanquish party rage, And make me, what alone I wish to be, The happy king of an united people. [Exeunt omnes. THE END. |