Tancred and Sigismunda A Tragedy |
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| 7. | SCENE VII. |
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 | Tancred and Sigismunda |  |
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SCENE VII.
Rodolpho, Laura.Laura.
Your high-prais'd Friend, the King,
Is false, most vilely false! The meanest Slave
Had shown a nobler Heart; nor grossly thus,
By the first Bait Ambition spread, been gull'd.
He Manfred's Son! away! it cannot be!
The Son of that brave Prince could ne'er betray
Those Rights so long usurp'd from his great Fathers,
Which he, this Day, by such amazing Fortune,
Had just regain'd; he ne'er could sacrifice
All Faith, all Honour, Gratitude and Love,
Even just Resentment of his Father's Fate,
And Pride itself; whate'er exalts a Man
Above the groveling Sons of Peasant-Mud,
All in a Moment—And for what? Why, truely
For kind Permission, gracious Leave, to fit
On his own Throne with Tyrant William's Daughter!
Rodolpho.
I stand amaz'd—You surely wrong him, Laura.
There must be some Mistake.
Laura.
There can be none!
Siffredi read his full and free Consent,
Before th' applauding Senate. True indeed,
A small Remain of Shame, a timorous Weakness,
Even dastardly in Falshood, made him blush
To act this Scene in Sigismunda's Eye,
Who sunk beneath his Perfidy and Baseness.
Hence, till to-morrow he adjourn'd the Senate—
To-morrow fix'd with Infamy to crown him!
Then, leading off his gay triumphant Princess,
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To bend her trembling Steps to that sad Home
His faithless Vows will render hateful to her—
He comes—Farewel—I cannot bear his Presence!
| Tancred and Sigismunda | |