University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

Arnolph, Knights.
ARNOLPH.
Most noble lords,
Almida's crime is to my shame too certain,
Yet in this bosom to the state devoted,
Kind nature has its rights. Think not a father
With broken heart can mingle in your councils.
Nor can you sure expect, this trembling hand
Her death should sign; 'tis a dire act my heart
Shrinks from with horror!

LOREDAN.
We revere your sorrows,
Nor would we irritate your deep affliction;
But you have seen yourself that guilty letter.
The slave that carried it to Solyman,
Stopt and surpriz'd just as he reach'd the camp,
But with his life gave up the fatal secret.
The state was lost. Our solemn oaths, our peril,
Permit no weak regards, no false compassion,
Nor does the law inexorable listen
To the soft pleadings of paternal pity.
Our country summons us with awful voice,
Nor can we disobey.

ARNOLPH.
I understand you,
And know too well the fate that waits Almida.

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Yet she was once my daughter, and your bride;
[to Orbassan.
To you I leave her cause; nothing remains
For a sad father, but to die before her.

[Exit.