Page:Miscellaneous Plays 1.pdf/123

Rh

And bless'd thine ear with his first voice of words? Away, away! despair has made thee mad, That thus thou hang'st upon me.

O he for whom I plead is to my soul Its soul: is to my fancy its bound world, In which it lives and moves; all else beyond Darkness, annihilation. O have pity! For well thou say'st, despair has made me mad.

Let go, let go! thou with a tigress striv'st, Defending her bay'd whelp: I have no pity. Heav'n will have pity on thee! let me go; Unlock thy desp'rate hold.

My daughter, heav'n will send in its good time The aid that is appointed for thy state. Contend no more, but to its righteous will Submit thyself. Let me conduct thee hence. She is gone now: thank God that she is gone!