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When on a sick-bed laid, and held my head, And kindly wept to see my wasted cheek, And lov'st thou cruelty? It cannot be!

Dwi. No, foolish maiden! mercy to such fiends Were cruelty.

Ella. Such fiends! Alas! do not they look like men? Do they not to their needful brethren do The kindly deeds of men? Ethelbert did Within his halls a houseless Thane maintain, Whose substance had been spent in base attempts To work his ruin.

Dwi. The blackest devils of all most saintly forms Oft wear. Go, go! thou strangely art deluded. I tremble for thee! get thee hence and pray, If that the wicked pity of thy heart May be forgiven thee.

Come, damsels, come! along the gallery, In slow procession holy Hexulf walks, With saintly Woggarwolfe, once a fierce chief, But now a cowled priest of marv'llous grace. They bear some holy relics to the queen, Which, near the royal couch with blessings laid, Will to the king his wonted rest restore. Come, meet them on their way and get a blessing.

Dwi. We will all gladly go.(Exeunt.