Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/492

 354 THE POEMS OF ANNE �Broke thro' his Guards, I seize upon the Tyrant, �And stab him thus, and thus [He acts all this. �Then bear him to the Ground, thus falling on him, �And to his Heart thus tearing my wide way. �Oh! O', O', O', [Throws himself upon the Ground. �Enter Amalintha, the Door by one without immediately lock'd �after her. �Amal. Where is this wretched Mourner? Oh ! let me find him, tho' to raise his Sorrows With the sad Sound of my repeated Groans. Ha! on the Ground! then be it too my Seat! 20 �[Sits on the Ground by him. For I will share in this Excess of Grief, As well as in the Days of milder Fortune, I bore a part in Love, that knew no Measure. O Aristomenes! oh! my Aristor! �[She puts her Handkerchief before her Eyes weeping. �Aristor. Whoe'er thou art, repeat again that Sound: Such Groans shall hourly issue from his Dungeon, �And fright the bloody Spartans into Madness. �[He looks up. �Ha! sure I shou'd know that Form, that Shape, those Limbs, �That lab' ring Bosom, and those Locks dishevel'd: �But take not from thy Face that friendly Cloud; 30 �Do not expose it, lest thro' all its Charms �My deep Revenge find out whose Stamp it bears, �And urge me on to something Dark and Fatal. �Amal. This from Aristor! this to Amalintha! �[She rises and shews her face. �Aristor. Why wou'd'st thou tempt me thus advent'rous Maid, And bring the Blood of Anaxander near me ? �[Coming up fiercely to her. ��� �