Page:A Series of Plays on the Passions Volume 1.pdf/383

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To break upon our sad solemnity?

Sist. Oh! I did hear, thro' the receding blast, Such horrid cries! it made my blood run chill.

Abb. 'Tis but the varied voices of the storm, Which many times will sound like distant screams: It has deceiv'd thee.

1st Sist. O no, for twice it call'd, so loudly call'd, With horrid strength, beyond the pitch of nature. And murder! murder! was the dreadful cry. A third time it return'd with feeble strength, But o'the sudden ceas'd, as tho' the words Were rudely smother'd in the grasped throat; And all was still again, save the wild blast Which at a distance growl'd— Oh! it will never from my mind depart! That dreadful cry all i'the instant still'd, For then, so near, some horrid deed was done, And none to rescue.

Abb. Where didst thou hear it?

Sist.In the higher cells. As now a window, open'd by the storm, I did attempt to close.

1st Monk. I wish our brother Bernard were arriv'd; He is upon his way.

Abb. Be not alarm'd; it still may be deception. 'Tis meet we finish our solemnity, Nor shew neglect unto the honour'd dead. (Gives a sign, and the organ plays again: just as it ceases a loud knocking is heard without.)