University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

A Prison.
The Hero,
in Chains.
Ye deep dark dungeons, and hard prison walls,
Hard as my fate, and darksome as the grave
To which I hasten, wherefore do ye bathe
Your rugged bosoms with unwholsome dews
That seem to weep in mockery of my woe?
—But see! some angel brightness breaks the gloom.
'Tis Lindamira comes! so breaks the morn
On the reviving world. Thou faithful fair!
[Approaching to embrace her.
—Curse on my fetters how they bind my limbs,
Nor will permit me take one chaste embrace.
Yet come, O come!—
What sayst thou? force thee to it!
Thy father force thee to Orosius' arms!
He cannot, will not, shall not.—O my brain!
Darkness and devils! burst my bonds, ye powers,
That I may tear him piecemeal from the earth,
And scatter him to all the winds of heaven.
—What means that bell?—O 'tis the sound of death.
Alas, I had forgot I was to die!
Let me reflect on death, &c.—
But what is death,
Racks, tortures, burning pincers, floods of fire,
What are ye all to disappointed love?
Drag, drag me hence, ye ministers of Fate,
From the dire thought—Orosius must enjoy her!
Death's welcome now—Orosius must enjoy her!
Hang on her lip, pant on her breast!—O gods!
I see the lustful satyr grasp her charms,
I see him melting in her amorous arms,
Fiends seize me, furies lash me, vultures tear,
Hell, horror, madness, darkness and despair!

[Runs off to execution.