Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/448

 310 THE POEMS OF ANNE �That (though unwilling) is the wretched cause Of his sad fate, and thy perpettual mourning. �Surg. Madam, he breathes, we'll bear him to his lodgings, I think the wound is in no mortal part, Take him up gently, and convey him hence. �[Ex. Surg. with Blan., etc. �Queen. You stand amaz'd, and seem to wonder Kiccio, The General and I have had this meeting. But his intentions are not what you think 'em, Come in with me, for I have much to tell you, 210 �And ne'r I think, have wanted more your councill. Oh! Blanfort live, that greif sitts here so heavy, Twill not affoard room for one pleasing thought, Tho' that remov'd, I've all I'd ask of fortune. �[Ex. Queen, Clar. & Ric. Enter Rivalto �Riv. The letter, which I threw in att his window, Had the desir'd effect, I saw 'em fight, And Blanfort sure is kill'd. Marina too, as I cou'd have contriv'd itt, Is weeping by a taper in her Chamber, Dresst in her female garb, Ho ! Vilmarin Linian, 220 �I'll make 'em go that way, to call the Master, And tell him of these accidents have happen' d, Who when he hears the noyse, will be drawn theither, And being caught by them, with her alone, Will seem to all, as guilty as I've made him. They come not, yett I bid 'em be att hand Curse on their neglegence, all may be lost by 't �Butt I must go find em [Exitt. �The scene changes to Aub s ante chamber. He in his night- gown, talking with Monthaleon. �Aub. I will correct itt, I will indeed Monthaleon, And tho' the war, as 'tis itts banefull custom, ��� �