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Who till he look'd upon that beauteous face, Was free and happy.—Pity me or kill me! (Kneeling and catching hold of her hand.)

Or. Off, fiend! let snakes and vipers cling to me So thou dost keep aloof.

Rud. (rising indignantly.) And is my love with so much hatred met? Madam, beware lest scorn like this should change me Ev'n to the baleful thing your fears have fancied.

Or. Dar'st thou to threaten me?

Rud. He, who is mad with love and gall'd with scorn, Dares any thing.—But O! forgive such words From one who rather, humbled at your feet, Would of that gentleness, that gen'rous pity, The native inmate of each female breast, Receive the grace on which his life depends. There was a time when thou did'st look on me With other eyes.

Or.Thou dost amaze me much. Whilst I believ'd thou wert an honest man, Being no fool, and an adventurous soldier, I look'd upon thee with good-will; if more Thou did'st discover in my looks than this, Thy wisdom with thine honesty, in truth Was fairly match'd.

Rud. Madam, the proud derision of that smile Deceives me not. It is the Lord of Falkenstein, Who better skill'd than I in tournay-war, Tho' not i' th' actual field more valiant found,