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SCENE I.—The private Apartment of, with his Chair and Table, and a Lamp hurning on the Table; the Stage lighted only by this Lamp.}}

Enter with a sword in his hand, which he lays on the table in the light, shrinking back as he looks at it.

The blood!—this blood!—his blood!—O dismal change! When rose the sun of this sad day; how gladly Would I have shed mine own, to have sav'd one drop Of what was then so dear! (Pushing it into the shade.)Be from my sight. It wrings my heart: and yet so black a stream, So base, so treacherous, did never stain This is a pause of rest from the first act, The needful act of righteous retribution. Oh! is it rest? The souls that fell from light Into the dark profound, cut off from bliss,