J. Sh. To thy hand

I trusted all; gave my whole store to thee,
Nor do I ask it back; allow me but
The smallest pittance, give me but to eat,
Lest I fall down and perish here before thee.
Alic. Nay! tell not me! Where is thy king, thy
Edward,

And all the smiling cringing train of courtiers,
That bent the knee before thee?

J. Sh. Oh! for mercy!

Alic. 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,
The bird of night sits screaming o'er the roof,
Grim spectres sweep along the horrid gloom,
And nought is heard but wailings and lamentings.
Hark! something cracks above! it shakes, it totters!
And see, the nodding ruin falls to crush me!

'Tis fall'n, 'tis here! I felt it on my brain!
66 1 Ser. This sight disorders her—
"" 2 Ser. Retire, dear lady-
"And leave this woman"-

Alic. Let her take my counsel:

Why should'st thou be a wretch? Stab, tear thy

heart,

And rid thyself of this detested being,

I wo'not linger long behind thee here.

A waving flood of bluish fire swells o'er me;
And now 'tis out, and I am drown'd in blood.
Ha! what art thou! thou horrid headless trunk?

It is my Hastings! see he wafts me on! Away! I go, I fly! I follow thee! "But come not thou with mischief-making beauty "To interpose between us, look not on him, "Give thy fond arts and thy delusions o'er, "For thou shalt never, never part us more. [She runs off, her Servants following. 7. Sh. 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 upon my journey's end;

My head runs round, my eyes begin to fail,
And dancing shadows swim before my sight.

I can no more, [Lies down.] receive me, thou cold earth,

Thou common parent, take me to thy bosom,
And let me rest with thee.

Enter BELMOUR.

Bel. Upon the ground!

Thy miseries can never lay thee lower,

Look up, thou poor afflicted one! thou mourner,
Whom none has comforted! Where are thy friends,
The dear companions of thy joyful days,
Whose hearts thy warm prosperity made glad,
Whose arms were taught to grow like ivy round thee,
And bind thee to their bosoms -Thus with thee,
Thus let us live, and let us die, they said,

"For sure thou art the sister of our loves,
"And nothing shall divide us”—Now where are they?

J. Sh. Ah, Belmoyr! where indeed? They stand

aloof,

And view my desolation from afar?

"When they pass by, they shake their heads in scorn, "And cry, behold the harlot and her end!"

And yet thy goodness turns aside to pity me.
Alas! there may be danger; get thee gone?
Let me not pull a ruin on thy head.
Leave me to die alone, for I am fall'n
Never to rise, and all relief is vain.

Bel. Yet raise thy drooping head; for I am come
To chase away despair. Behold I where yonder
That honest man, that faithful, brave Dumont,
Is hasting to thy aid-----

J. Sh. Dumont! Ha! where!

[Raising herself, and looking about.
Then Heav'n has heard my pray’r; his very name
Renews the springs of life, and cheers my soul.
Has he then 'scap'd the snare?

Bel. He has; but see→→→→→

He comes unlike to that Dumont you knew,
For now he wears your better angel's form,
And comes to visit you with peace and pardon.

Enter SHORE.

7. Sh. Speak, tell me! Which is he? And ho what would

This dreadful vision! See it comes upon me—
It is my husband Ah!

Sh. She faints! support her!

H

[She swooons.

"Sustain her head, while I infuse this cordial "Into her dying lips-from spicy drugs, "Rich herbs and flow'rs, the potent juice is drawn ; "With wond'rous force it strikes the lazy spirits, "Drives them around, and wakens life anew."

Bel. Her weakness could not bear the strong surprize.

But see, she stirrs! And the returning blood
Faintly begins to blush again, and kindle
Upon her ashy cheek—

Sh. So-gently raise her

7. Sh. Ha! What art thou? Belmour! Bel. How fare you, lady?

J. Sh. My heart is thrill'd with horror

Bel. Be of courage

[Raising her up.

Your husband lives! 'tis he, my worthiest friend7. Sh. Still art thou there!-Still dost thou hover round me!

Oh, save me, Belmour, from his angry shade!
Bel. 'Tis he himself!-he lives! look up-
J. Sh. I dare not!

Oh that my eyes could shut him out for ever-
Sh. Am I so hateful, then, so deadly to thee,
To blast thy eyes with horror? Since I'm grown
A burthen to the world, myself, and thee,
Wou'd I had ne'er surviv'd to see thee more.

J. Sh. Oh! thou most injur'd-dost thou live, indeed!

Fall then, ye mountains, on my guilty head;
Hide me, ye rocks, within your secret caverns ;

Cast thy black veil upon my shame, O night!
And shield me with thy sable wings for ever.
Sh. Why dost thou turn away?Why tremble
thus?

Why thus indulge thy fears? and in despair,
Abandon thy distracted soul to horror?
Cast every black and guilty thought behind thee,
And let 'em never vex thy quiet more.
My arms, my heart, are open to receive thee,
To bring thee back to thy forsaken home,

With tender joy, with fond forgiving love,
And all the longings of my first desires.

"J. Sh. No, arm thy brow with vengeance and

appear

"The minister of Heaven's inquiring justice.
"Array thyself all terrible for judgment,
"Wrath in thy eyes, and thunder in thy voice ;
"Pronounce my sentence, and if yet there be
"A woe I have not felt, inflict it on me.

"Sh. The measure of my sorrows is compleat!
"And I am come to snatch thee from injustice.
“The hand of pow'r no more shall crush thy weak-
ness,

"Nor proud oppression grind thy humble soul.

"J. Sh. Art thou not risen by miracle from death? "Thy shroud is fall'n from off thee, and the grave "Was bid to give thee up, that thou might'st come "The messenger of grace and goodness to me, "To seal my peace, and bless me e'er I go.