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Æp. Laias alone; no errand mine for crowds.
1095 THOMAS PERCY, EARL OF WORCESTER TO
I in loving us;
T is not possible, it cannot be,
he will suspect us still, and find a time
1096 CALANTHA BEFORE THE DEAD BODY OF ITHOCLES
of my contracted lord: bear witness all,
ward; but it struck home, and here, and in an instant. Be such mere women, who with shrieks and outcries can vow a present end to all their sorrows: yet live to court new pleasures, and outlive them. They are the silent griefs which cut the heart
let me die smiling. Near. 'Tis a truth too ominous.
Cal. One kiss on these cold lips; my last ! crack, crackArgos now's Sparta's king.
CALENDARO A CONSPIRATOR-BERTUCCIO
CHIEF OF THE ARSENAL
UT if we fail — Bert. They never fail who die
in a great cause: the block may soak their gore; their heads may sodden in the sun; their limbs be strung to city gates and castle wallsbut still their spirit walks abroad. Though years elapse and others share as dark a doom, they but augment the deep and sweeping thoughts which overpower all others and conduct the world at last to freedom: What were we if Brutus had not lived ? He died in giving Rome liberty, but left a deathless lessona name which is a virtue, and a soul which multiplies itself throughout all time, when wicked men wax mighty, and a state turns servile; he and his high friend were styled, “The last of Romans!' Let us be the first of true Venetians, sprung from Roman sires.
1098 DONNA ISABELLA ON DISCOVERING THE BODY
OF HER MURDERED SON DON MANUEL
your gaze upon my anguish, learn to know
the murderess of his sons, the destined spring
A. SWANWICK from Schiller
Y brother! D. C. Sister, are thy tears for me? B.
Live for our mother! D. C. For our mother?
thy son shall live. D. C. (to his brother's coffin) I will not rob thee, brother,
the sacrifice is thine ;-Hark, from the tomb,
I come! (he stabs himself)
In dread amaze I stand, nor know
A. SWANWICK from Schiller
I100 LORD CLIFFORD-EDMUND EARL OF RUTLAND.
Clif. HOW now! is he dead already? Or, is it fear,
that him ? open
them. Rut. So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch
that trembles under his devouring paws:
and so he walks, insulting o'er his prey;
be thou reveng'd on men, and let me live. Clif. In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my father's blood
hath stopp'd the passage where thy words should enter. Rut. Then let my father's blood open it again :
he is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him. 1101 Clif. Had I thy brethren here, their lives, and thine,
were not revenge sufficient for me;
[Lifting his hand. Rut. O, let me pray before I take my death:
to thee I pray; Sweet Clifford, pity me!
Th hast one son, for his sake pity me;
then let me die, for now thou hast no cause. Clif. No cause?
Thy father slew my father; therefore, die.
ARCAS SEEING MEROPE WITH THE AXE
UPLIFTED AGAINST ÆPYTUS
Arc. HAT do I see?
A murderer at death's door.
A murderer? Mer.
And a captive to the dear next-of-kin to him he murdered.
Stand and let vengeance pass! Arc.
Hold, O Queen, hold ! thou know'st not whom thou strik'st... Mer.
I know his crime.
A most just blow.
Thy son! Mer. Ah!.........[she lets the axe drop and falls insensible]
ÆPYTUS (awaking) Who are these? What shrill, ear-piercing scream wakes me thus kindly from the perilous sleep wherewith fatigue and youth had bound mine eyes, even in the deadly palace of my foe?
Arcas! Thou here?
O my dear master! O
as dead we held thee, mourn'd for thee as dead. 1103 Æp. In word I died, that I in deed might live.
But who are these?
Messenian maidens, friends.
Who upbraids me? ah!...
[seeing the axe. Æp. Upbraids thee? no one. Mer.
Thou dost well: but take... Æp. What wav'st thou off? Mer.
That murderous axe away!
One said so, sure, but now.
Slaughter'd by this hand...
May'st thou dream ever so!