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SCENE IV.
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191

SCENE IV.

Enter Adrian.
Adr.
[entering.]
My life! my Emirena! [sees her.]
Heavenly Powers!

What have I said?

[going.
Sab.
Why do you fly me, Adrian?
Ah! grudge me not your presence one short moment;
Then, if you will, return to her you love.

Adr.
What says Sabina? Does she then believe—
And who should Adrian love?

Sab.
Ah! hide not from me
That candid blush of shame; you know not, Adrian,
To me how grateful: conscience never dyes
The cheek of him who feels not he is guilty;
And he who feels his guilt will soon disclaim it.

Adr.
O! Heaven!

Sab.
You sigh—give me that sigh, my lord.
Immortal powers! Who once would have believ'd
A change like this? The glory of our Rome,
The hero's pattern, and my only hope,
Adrian inconstant! Is it possible?
It cannot be—Who has seduc'd your faith?
Give me to know it all.


192

Adr.
What shall I say?
How is my soul confus'd!—Ah! cease so gently
To chide my falsehood; call me base, betrayer;
Give, give thine anger vent. I own, Sabina,
Thou justly may'st reproach me: thy deserts,
Our mutual interchange of love; the vows
A thousand times repeated, all now rise
To my remembrance; but in vain, Sabina,
I'm not myself. I know, I prize, thy virtues,
Thy every charm—and yet—a single look—
I hate myself; I loath my own injustice.
Thy wrongs cry out for vengeance.—Dost thou wish
The death of Adrian? Take, O! take his life;
'Tis just, nor will I murmur.—Would'st thou tear
The sacred laurel from Augustus' brow,
He gives it to thy hand: the happy world
With joy will bend beneath thy virtuous sway.

Sab.
I ask your heart and not your empire, Adrian.

Adr.
This heart was thine, and, witness Heaven! I strove
To keep it all thy own. The Gods, Sabina,
Beheld my secret thoughts: all Asia's beauties
To me were nothing: long, ah! long I deem'd
The loveliest glances cold compar'd to thine.

Sab.
And yet—

Adr.
And yet—I know not how, secure

193

In conscious virtue I forgot defence,
And love surpris'd me. Flush'd with victory,
My passions warm'd with all the warrior's ardour
Was Emirena first conducted to me.
The soul in tumult oft imbibes with ease
A new affection. I beheld her chain'd
Implore my pity, felt her press my hand,
And bathe it with her tears, while on my face
She fix'd her suppliant eye with such a look—
—Ah! had Sabina seen her then, the sight
Had urg'd even her to pardon Adrian's weakness.

Sab.
It is too much—Not only to forsake me,
But dare avow it; to my face extol
The charms of her, my rival for thy heart!
And dost thou further hope Sabina, mov'd
To hear thy suffering, should excuse thy guilt?
Unheard-of tyranny! Have I deserv'd
A recompense like this? Barbarian! traitor!
Ungrateful Adrian!

[sinks on a seat and weeps.