University of Virginia Library

SCENE VIII.

Changes to an adjoining part of the wood, and discovers the child murder'd.
[Cleone re-enters.
Cleone.
Tremendous Silence! Not a sound returns,
Save the wild echoes of my own sad cries,
To my affrighted ear!—My child! my child!
Where art thou stray'd? O where, beyond the reach
Of thy poor mother's voice?—Yet while in Heaven
The God of justice dwells, I will not deem
The bloody vision true. Heaven hath not left me—
There my truth is known, well known—And, see my love!
See, where upon the bank, its weary'd limbs
Lie stretch'd in sleep. In sleep!—O agony!
Blast not my senses with a sight like this!
'Tis blood! 'tis death! my child, my child is murder'd!
[Falls down by her child, kissing it and weeping. Then raising herself on her arm, after a dead silence, and looking by degrees more and more wild, she proceeds in a distracted manner.
Hark! hark! lie still, my love!—O for the world
Don't stir!—'Tis Glanville, and he'll murder us!
Stay, stay—I'll cover thee with boughs—don't fear—
I'll call the little lambs, and they shall bring
Their softest fleece to shelter thee from cold.
There, there—lie close—he shall not see—no, no;
I'll tell him 'tis an angel I have hid.
[She rises up.
Where is he? soft!—he's gone, he's gone, my love,
And shall not murder thee.—Poor innocent!
'Tis fast asleep.—O well thought! I'll go,
Now while he slumbers—pick wild berries for him—
And bring a little water in my hand—
Then, when he wakes, we'll seat us on the bank,
And sing all night.