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How did she bear it?

Bell. With the gentleft Patience.
Submislive, fad, and lowly was her Look ;
A burning Taper in her Hand she bore,
And on her Shoulders carelesly confus'd
With loose Negle&t her lovely Tresses hung,
Upon her Cheek a faintih Fluíh was spread,
Feeble she seem'd, and forely smit with Pain,
While bare-foot as she trod the finty Pavement,
Her Footsteeps all along were mark'd with Blood.
Yet Gilent still she pafs'd and unrepining;
Her streaming Eyes bent ever on the Earth,
Except when in fome bitter Pang of Sorrow,
To Heav'n she seem'd in fervent Zeal to raise,
And beg that Mercy Man deny'd her here.
Sb. When was this piteous Sight?

Bell. There last two Days.
You know my Care was wholly bent on you,
To find the happy Means of your Deliverance,
Which but for Hastings' Death I had not gain’d.
During that Time, altho’ I have not seen her, -
Yet divers trusty Messengers I've fent,
To wait about, and watch a fit Convenience
To give her some Relief , but all in vain.
A churlish Guard attends upon her Steps,
Who menace those with Death that bring her Comfurt,
And drive all Succour from her.

Sh. Let 'em threaten.
Let proud Oppression prove its fierceft. Malice;
So Heav'n betriend my Soul, as bere I vow
To give her Help, and share one Fortune wither.

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Bell. Mean you to fee her, thus, in your own Forin?
Sh. I do.
Bell, And have you thought upon the Consequence?
Sh. What is there I shall fear?

Bell, Have you examin'd

your ininoft Heart, and try'd at leisure The feveral secret Springs that move the Passions ? Has Mercy fix'd her Empire there so sure,

That Wrath and Vengeance never may return?
Can you resume a Husband's Name, and bid
'That wakeful Dragon fierce Refentment sleep?

Sh. Why dost thou search fo deep, and urge my Memory
To conjure up my Wrongs to life again?
I have long labour'd to forget my self,
To think on all Time, backward, like a Space,
Idle and void, where Nothing e'er had Being;
*But thou hast Peopled it again; Revenge
And Jealousie renew their horrid Forms,
Shoot all their Fires, and drive me to Distraction.
Bell. Far be the thought from me ! my


was only
To arm you for the Meeting : Better were it
Never to see her, than to let that Name
Recal forgotten Rage, and make the Husband
Destroy the generous Pity of Dumont.

Sh. Oh! thou hast set my busý Brain at work,
'And now she musters up a Train of Images,
Which to preserve my Peace I had cast aside,
And funk in deep Oblivion-----Oh! that Forin!
That Angel face on which my Dotage hung!
Huw have I gaz'd upon her: till my

With very Eagerness went forth towards her,


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And iffu’d at my Eyes -- Was there a Jema
Which the Sun ripens in the Indian Mine,
Or the rich Bofom of the Ocean yields,
What was there Art cou'd make, or Wealth cou'd
Which I have left unfought to deck her Beauty?
What cou'd her King do more? And


she fleder Bel'. Away with that fid Fancy.---

Sis. Oh! thai Day!
The Thought of it must

. live for ever with me.. I met her, Bellmour, when the Royal Spoiler Bore her in triumph from

my. widow's Home!
Within his Chariot by his Side !he fate,
And listen’d to his Talk with downward Looks ;-
Till sudden as the chanc'd aside to glance,
Her Eyes encounter'd mine--Oh! then


Qh! who can point iny Grief and her Amazement !.
As at the Stroke of Death, twice turn’d she pale,
And twice a burning Crimson blush'd all o'er her;
Then, with a Shriek Heart-wounding loud the cry'd,
While down her Cheeks two guhing Torrents ran,
Fast falling on her Hands, which thus she wrung.---
Mov'd at her Griet the Tyrant Ravilher,
With Courteous Action woo'd her oft to turn ;
Earneft he seem'd to plead; but all in vain ;
Ev’n to the last she bent her Sight towards me,
And follow'd me-----till I had lost my felf.

Bell. Alas! for pity! Oh! those speaking Tears!
Could they be false? Did she not suffer with you?
And, tho' the King by Force poffefs her Person,
Her unconsenting Heart dwelt fill with you:
If all her former Woes were not eaough,



Look on her now, behold her where she wanders,
Hunted to Death, distress’d on every side,
With no one Hand to help, and tell me then,
If every. Misery were known like hers?

Sh. And can she bear it? Can that delicate Frame
Endure the beating of a Storm fo rude?
Can the, for whom the various Seasons chang’d,
'To court her Appetite, and crown her Board,
For whom the foreign Vintages were press’d,
For whom the Merchant spread his filken Stores,
Can theme
Intreat for Bread and want the needful Rayment,
To wrap her shivering Bosom from the Weather?
When she was mine, no Care came ever nigh her..
I thought the gentlest Breeze that wakes the Spring
Too rough to breathe upon her ; Cheerfullnefs
Danc'd all the Day before her ; and at Night
Soft Slumbers waited on her downy
Now fad and shelterless, perhaps, the lyės,
Where piercing Winds blow sharp, and the chill Raina
Drops from fome Pent-house on her wretched Head,
Drenches her Locks, and kills her with the Cold,
It is too much----Hence with her past Offences,
They are atton'd at full-Why stay we then?
Oh! let us haste, my Friend, and find her out.

. Somewhere about this Quarter of the Town, I hear the poor abandon'd Creature lingers: Her Guard, tho’ fer with strictest Watch to keep All Food and Friendship from her, yet permit her To wander in the Streets, there chuse her Bed, And rest her Head on what cold Stone Ilie pleales.

Sb. Here let us then divide; each in his Round
To search her Sorrows out, whose hap it is
First to behold her, this way let him lead
Her fainting Steps, and meet we here together.. (Exeunt.
Enter Jane Shore, ber Hair hanging loo.'e on her Shoulders,

and bare-footed.
7. Sh. Yet, yet endure, nor inurmur, Oh! my Soul!
For are not thy Transgressions great and numberlets?
Do they not cover thee, like rising Floods,
And press thee like a Weight of Waters down?
Does not the Hand of Righteousness amict thee;
And who shall plead against it? Who small fay
To Pow'r Almighty, Thou hait done enough:
Or bid his dreadful Rod of Vengeance, stay?
Wait then with Patience, till the circling Hours
Shall bring the Time of thy appointed Reft,
And lay thee down in Death. The Hireling thus --
With Labour.drudges out the painful Day,
And often looks with long expecting Eyes
To see the Shadows rise and be dismifs d.
And hark! methinks the Roar that late Pursu'd me,
Sinks, like the Murmurs of a falling Wind,
And foftens into Silence. Does Revenge
And Malice then grow weary, and forsake me?
My Guard too, that obfery'd me fill fo close,
Tire in the 'Task of their inhuman Office,

And loiter far behind. Alas! I faint,
My Spirits fail at once---This is the Door

my Alicia ---Bleffed Opportunity k..'! I'll steal a little Succour from her Goodness' ! Now, while no Eye observes me... [She kracks at the Door..



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