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By the affection thou didst ever bear me, By the dear mem'ry of our infant days; By kindred living ties, ay, and by those Who sleep i'the tomb, and cannot call to thee, I do conjure thee speak. Ha! wilt thou not? (Assuming dignity.) Then, if affection, most unwearied love, Tried early, long, and never wanting found, O'er gen'rous man hath more authority, More rightful power than crown and sceptre give, I do command thee. De Monfort, do not thus resist my love. Here I entreat thee on my bended knees. (Kneeling.) Alas! my brother!

De Mon. Thus let him kneel who should the abased be, And at thine honour'd feet confession make, I'll tell thee all—but oh! thou wilt despise me. For in my breast a raging passion burns, To which thy soul no sympathy will own. A passion which hath made my nightly couch A place of torment; and the light of day,