But above all, thou must root out for ever From the king's breast the least remain of hope, And there is one Sig. Good Heavens! what means my lord? Who can and will protect thee; one to awe Let me with trembling arms embrace thy knees. When as I prattling twined around your neck, Sig. Here, my father, Till you relent, here will I grow for ever! Sif. Rise, Sigismunda.-Though you touch my heart, Nothing can shake th' inexorable dictates Of honour, duty, and determined reason. Resolve, I charge thee, to receive Earl Osmond, Sif. [Aside.] I must rush From her soft grasp, or nature will betray me! You cannot leave me thus ! Sif. Come hither, Laura, Come to thy friend. Now show thyself a friend. Combat her weakness; dissipate her tears; Cherish, and reconcile her to her duty. [Exit SIFFREDI. Enter LAURA. Laura. Forgive me, madam, if I blame your grief. How can you waste your tears on one so false ? Unworthy of your tenderness; to whom Nought but contempt is due, and indignation? Sig. You know not half the horrors of my fate! I might perhaps have learn'd to scorn his falsehood; I might have roused my pride and scorn'd himself— But 'tis too much, this greatest, last misfortuneOh, whither shall I fly? Where hide me, Laura, From the dire scene my father now prepares ? Laura. What thus alarms you, madam? Sig. Can it be? Can Iah, no! My violated heart? -at once give to another Oh, dreadful change! for Tancred, haughty Osmond. Laura. Now, on my soul, 'tis what an outraged heart Like yours, should wish! -I should, by Heavens, esteem it Most exquisite revenge! Sig. Revenge! on whom? On my own heart, already but too wretched! Laura. On him! this Tancred! who has basely sold, For the dull form of despicable grandeur, His faith, his love!-At once a slave and tyrant! Sig. Oh, rail at me, at my believing folly, My vain ill-founded hopes! but spare him, Laura. Laura. Who raised these hopes? who triumphs o'er that weakness? Pardon the word-You greatly merit him You raised him by your smiles, when he was nothing. Where is your woman's pride, that guardian spirit Given us to dash the perfidy of man? Ye powers! I cannot bear the thought with patience Before the public thus, before your father, With such inhuman scorn, to throw you from him: To give his faithless hand, yet warm from thine, With complicated meanness, to Constantia. And, to complete his crime, when thy weak limbs Could scarce support thee, then, of thee regardless, To lead her off. Sig. That was indeed a sight To poison love, to turn it into rage And keen contempt.-What means this stupid weak ness That hangs upon me? Hence, unworthy tears, Disgrace my cheek no more! No more, my heart, For one so coolly false or meanly fickle, Dare to suggest The least excuse !-Yes, traitor, I will wring Shall wondering see in me a great example So lightly listened to a worthless lover! Laura. At last it mounts, the kindling pride of virtue; Trust me, thy marriage shall embitter his Will sting his soul to madness. Noble Osmond, Of strictest honour, and by all revered Sig. Talk not of Osmond, but perfidious Tancred! Rail at him, rail! invent new names of scorn! Assist me, Laura; Support my staggering purpose, which already Laura. If thy own peace and honour cannot keep Thy resolution fix'd, yet, Sigismunda, Oh, think how deeply, how beyond retreat, Sig. Ah, wretched weakness! It must not be !-thou first of angels! come, And hide me from their view. Enter SIFFREDI and OSMOND. Sif. My daughter, Behold my noble friend, who courts thy hand, Madam, on this your father's kind consent, Sig. Oh, Forgive my weakness-soft-my Laura, lead me To my apartment. [Exeunt SIGIS, and LAURA. Sif. Pardon me, my lord, If, by this sudden accident alarm'd, Osm. Let me think. What can this mean? [Exit SIFFREDI. Is it to me aversion? Or is it, as I fear'd, she loves another? Ha!-yes-perhaps the king-the young Count Tancred; They were bred up together-Surely that, ACT THE FOURTH. [Exit. SCENE I. The Garden belonging to SIFFREDI's House. Enter SIGISMUNDA and LAURA. Sig. [With a Letter in her Hand.] 'Tis done!-I am a slave!-The fatal vow Has pass'd my lips! But here is still new matter of distress. |