Page:Miscellaneous Plays 1.pdf/115

Rh

O faithless, faithless woman! she it was, Who made of me the cursed thing I am! I've been a fool indeed and well requited. Base, avaricious and ungratefuloh! Such agitation suits not with thy state: What ails thee now?

The pain, the pain! it has return'd again With encreased violence.

God send thee ease! why dost thou look so wildly, And grasp my hand so hard? What is't disturbs thee?

My time on earth is short.

Nay, say not so: thou may'st recover slill. O why this seeming agony of mind? 'Tis not the pain that racks thee.