Page:A Series of Plays on the Passions Volume 1.pdf/345

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Oh! droop not thus, my life, my pride, my sister! Look on me yet again.

Jane.Thou too, De Monfort, In better days, wert wont to be my pride.

De Mon. I am a wretch, most wretched in myself, And still more wretched in the pain I give. O curse that villain! that detested villain! He hath spread mis'ry o'er my fated life: He will undo us all.

Jane. I've held my warfare through a troubled world, And borne with steady mind my share of ill; For then the helpmate of my toil wert thou. But now the wane of life comes darkly on, And hideous passion tears thee from my heart, Blasting thy worth.—I cannot strive with this.

''De Mon. (Affectionately.)'' What shall I do?

Jane.Call up thy noble spirit, Rouse all the gen'rous energy of virtue; And with the strength of heaven-endued man, Repel the hideous foe. Be great; be valiant. O, if thou could'st! E'en shrouded as thou art In all the sad infirmities of nature, What a most noble creature would'st thou be!

De Mon. Ay, if I could: alas! alas! I cannot.

Jane. Thou can'st, thou may'st, thou wilt. We shall not part till I have turn'd thy soul.