Fast falling on her hands, which thus she wrung- Bel. Alas, for pity! Oh! those speaking tears! Look on her now; behold her where she wanders, Hunted to death, distress'd on every side, With no one hand to help; and tell me then, If ever misery were known like hers? Dum. And can she bear it? Can that delicate frame Endure the beating of a storm so rude? Can she, for whom the various seasons chang'd Intreat for bread, and want the needful raiment, 2 Where piercing winds blow sharp, and the chill rain Her fainting steps, and meet we here together. [Exeunt. Enter JANE SHORE, her hair hanging loose on her shoulders, and bare-footed. J. Sh. Yet, yet endure, nor murmur, oh, my soul ! For are not thy transgressions great and numberless? Do they not cover thee like rising floods, And press thee like a weight of waters down? "Does not the hand of righteousness afflict thee? "And who shall plead against it? Who shall say "To pow'r almighty, thou hast done enough; "Or bid his dreadful rod of vengeance stay ?” Wait then with patience, till the circling hours Shall bring the time of thy appointed rest, And lay thee down in death. "The hireling thus "With labour drudges out the painful day, "And often looks with long expecting eyes "To see the shadows rise, and be dismiss'd." And hark, methinks the roar that late pursu'd me, Sinks like the murmurs of a falling wind, And softens into silence. Does revenge And malice then grow weary, and forsake me ? -This is the door My spirits fail at once Of my Alicia—Blessed opportunity ! I'll steal a little succour from her goodness, Now while no eye observes me. [She knocks at the door. Is your lady, Enter a Servant. My gentle friend, at home! Oh! bring me to her. [Going in. [Pulling her back. Ser. Hold, mistress, whither would you ? 7. Sh. Do you not know me? Ser. I know you well, and know my orders, too: You must not enter here 7. Sh. Tell my Alicia, 'Tis I would see her. Ser. She is ill at ease, And will admit no visitor. 'Tis I, her friend, the partner of her heart, Wait at the door and beg Ser. 'Tis all in vain, Go hence, and howl to those that will regard you. [Shuts the door, and exit. J. Sh. 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 this good house "Has pour'd forth all its dwellers to receive me :" When my approaches 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, two Servants following. Alic. What wretch art thou, whose misery and Hangs on my door; whose hateful whine of woe My jarring senses with thy beggar's cry? J. Sh. A very beggar, and a wretch, indeed; For succours here; one perishing for want, A draught of water and a little bread. Alic. 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, Or cast it on the waters-Mark the eagle, And hungry vulture, where they wind the prey; And seek thy food with them-I know thee not. me; "When pair'd like turtles, we were still together; "When often as we prattled arm in arm,” Inclining fondly to me she has sworn, She lov'd me more than all the world besides. Alic. 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; Thou hast undone me-Murder! Oh, my Hastings! See his pale bloody head shoots glaring by me ! "Give me him back again, thou soft deluder, "Thou beauteous witch." J. Sh. Alas! I never wrong'd you "Oh! then be good to me; have pity on me; Alic. Avaunt! and come not near me |