J. Shore. Never! by those chaste lights above I swear, My soul shall never know pollution more; [Kneeling. Let quick destruction overtake me here, J. Shore. Retire! I beg you leave me— With one who knows you too. J. Shore. For mercy's sake [Striving. Hast. Ungrateful woman! Is it thus you pay My services? J. Shore. Abandon me to ruin Rather than urge me——— Hast. This way to your chamber; There if you struggle J. Shore. Help, oh, gracious Heaven! Help! Save me! Help! [Pulling her. Enter DUMONT. Dum. My lord! for honour's sake- To my attendance on my mistress here. At distance wait, and know thy office better. The common ties of manhood call me now, I know thee well; know thee with each advantage, Which wealth, or power, or noble birth, can give thee. I know thee, too, for one who stains those honours, And blots a long illustrious line of ancestry, By poorly daring thus to wrong a woman. Hast. "Tis wond'rous well! I see, my saint-like dame, You stand provided of your braves and ruffians, Nor urge my rage too far, lest thou should find As thou, or any of thy race e'er boasted; Yet Heav'n, that made me honest, made me more Hast. Insolent villain! henceforth let this teach [Draws, and strikes him. thee The distance 'twixt a peasant and a prince. Dum. Nay, then, my lord, [Drawing.] learn you by this, how well An arm resolv'd can guard its master's life. J. Shore. O my distracting fears !-hold, for sweet Heaven. [They fight; DUMONT disarms LORD HASTINGS. Hast. Confusion! baffled by a base-born hind! Dum. Now, haughty sir, where is our difference now? Your life is in my hand, and did not honour, Hast. Curse on my failing hand! Your better for tune Has given you 'vantage o'er me; but perhaps D Your triumph may be bought with dear repentance. J. Shore. Alas! what have you the pow'r, [Exit HASTINGS. done? Know ye The mightiness, that waits upon this lord? Dum. Fear not, my worthiest mistress; 'tis a cause In which Heaven's guards shall wait you. O, pursue, Pursue the sacred counsels of your soul, Which urge you on to virtue; let not danger, Nor the encumb'ring world, make faint your purpose. Assisting angels shall conduct your steps, Bring you to bliss, and crown your days with peace. J. Shore. O, that my head were laid, my sad eyes clos'd, And my cold corse wound in my shroud to rest! Dum. Would you be happy, leave this fatal place; J. Shore. Where should I fly, thus helpless and forlorn, Of friends, and all the means of life bereft? Dum. Belmour, whose friendly care still wakes to serve you, Has found you out a little peaceful refuge, Far from the court and the tumultuous city. There stands a lonely, but a healthful, dwelling, By nature's own contrivance seem'd dispos'd. J. Shore. Can there be so much happiness in store! A cell like that is all my hopes aspire to. Haste, then, and thither let us take our flight, Dum. Will you then go! You glad my very soul. Banish your fears, cast all your cares on me; Plenty and ease, and peace of mind shall wait you, And make your latter days of life most happy. O, lady! but I must not, cannot tell you, How anxious I have been for all your dangers, And how my heart rejoices at your safety. So when the spring renews the flow'ry field, And warns the pregnant nightingale to build, She seeks the safest shelter of the wood, Where she may trust her little tuneful brood; Where no rude swains her shady cell may know, No serpents climb, nor blasting winds may blow; Fond of the chosen place, she views it o'er, Sits there, and wanders thro' the grove no more; Warbling she charms it each returning night, And loves it with a mother's dear delight. [Exeunt. ACT THE THIRD. SCENE I. The Court. Enter ALICIA, with a Paper. Alicia. This paper to the great Protector's hand, With care and secrecy, must be convey'd ; His bold ambition now avows its aim, To pluck the crown from Edward's infant brow, Enter JANE SHORE. J. Shore. O, my Alicia! Alicia. What new grief is this? What unforeseen misfortune has surpris'd thee, J. Shore. O, Dumont ! Alicia. Say, what of him? J. Shore. That friendly, honest man, Whom Belmour brought of late to my assistance, On whose kind care, whose diligence and faith, My surest trust was built, this very morn Was seiz'd on by the cruel hand of power, Forc'd from my house, and borne away to prison. Alicia. To prison, said you! Can you guess the cause? J. Shore. Too well, I fear. His bold defence of me Has drawn the vengeance of Lord Hastings on him. Alicia. Lord Hastings! Ha! J. Shore. Some fitter time must tell thee |