University of Virginia Library

[SCENE I.]

Chorus; Roldan.
Chorus.
Neighbours, is not yon same, with folded arms,
With head low bent, and pace dejected, slow,
And intermitted, the inhuman wretch
Whose selfish lust the heavy sorrows caus'd,
Beneath whose weight the child of Albert bends
Distracted? 'Tis the same. The graceful locks,
In curls Hesperient negligently dress'd,
The bloomy peach which ripens on his cheek,
The graceful limbs, and brow, where manly Grace
Commanding sits, I can remember well.

Roldan.

Chorus.
Mean'st thou the hapless child
Of hoary Albert, who yon mansion owns?

Roldan.
The same.

Chorus.
Driv'n from her sire, with curses loud,
Some short time since, distracted and forlorn,
The wretched outcast left the spot we tread.

Roldan.
And whither went she?

Chorus.
Where a frantic mind,
Thy treacherous cruelty, and a father's rage
Might drive the wretched lunatic, as yet
I have no power to guess.

Roldan.
Distracting thought!
What if the wretched fair, to madness stung,
Should perpetrate what she did more than hint!

Chorus.
Tell me, base libertine! dost thou suppose
That the hot vengeance of th'Almighty Pow'r
(Whose potent word the forked lightning forms,
And sends it hissing at the guilty head)
Will sleep for ever o'er thy impious crimes?

Roldan.
Oh me!

Chorus.
Thou guilty wretch! who, with pretended love,
Didst win the heart of the deluded fair,
And, for a short-liv'd transport, plunge her down
At once to Shame, and Guilt—perhaps to Death—
The worst of deaths—to suicide.

Roldan.
Alas!
Now glares my guilt in all its proper hues!
Yet let us hope—.