Eurydice A Tragedy |
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| 4. | SCENE IV. |
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 | Eurydice |  |
43
SCENE IV.
Proclesalone.
No. I cannot bear
His last night's haughty look and untam'd spirit.
It baffles my revenge, and I still miss
My noblest triumph; for I meant to bend him
To base dejection, and to feast my scorn
With his pale cheek and supplicating eye.
But I will hunt this pride thro' each recess,
Each closer folding of the soul, till I
Have sunk him to my wish.—Thou Jealousy!
Almighty tyrant of the human mind,
Who canst at will unsettle the calm brain,
O'erturn the seated heart, and shake the man
Thro' all his frame with tempest and distraction;
Rise to my present aid: call up thy Powers,
Thy furious fears, thy blasts of dreadful passion,
Thy whips, snakes, mortal stings, thy host of horrors;
Rouse thy whole war against him, and compleat
My purpos'd vengeance.—But he comes to prove it.
| Eurydice | |