The Captives A Tragedy |
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| 13. | SCENE XIII. |
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 | The Captives |  |
SCENE XIII.
Astarbe.How my heart bleeds thus to pursue revenge
Against the man I love! But me he scorns;
And from my beauty turns his head away
With saucy arrogance and proud contempt.
I could forgive him ev'ry other crime,
Ev'n the base murder of my dearest friend;
But slighted love no woman can forgive.
For thro' our life we feel the bitter smart,
And guilt and shame lye festring at the heart.
| The Captives | |