Page:Dramas 2.pdf/93

Rh

Alas! thought I, how long a term is night To lonely watchers! ev'n a summer's night. And in the lengthen'd gloom of chill December Why dost thou move?

There is a stranger coming.

Perhaps it is some message from my lord.

I rather fear it is Tortona's lord.

I wish my gate had not been open'd to him. Will he persist to press his presence on me?

Pardon me, Madam, this too bold intrusion, But hov'ring round your walls, like the poor moth Gilding the fatal flame, I needs must enter. I was compell'd to do it. May I hope I see you well as lovely, and inclined, From the angelic sweetness of your nature, To pardon me?

You still preserve, my Lord, I do perceive,