University of Virginia Library


41

SCENE VII.

Arnolph, Almida. The guards take off her chains.
ALMIDA.
Merciful powers! where am I? ah! he's gone!
Sure 'twas a vision! some angelic form
Assum'd his shape.

ARNOLPH.
Fear has disturb'd her senses;
Speak my Almida, 'tis thy father calls thee.

ALMIDA.
Why do you soothe me thus? am I not lost?
Have you not given me up to shame and death?

ARNOLPH.
O thou all-gracious heaven! whose hand supreme
Has taken her defence, admit my pray'r,
Her fault forgive, or clear her innocence!
Thy will suspends our fate: must I adore
Thy mercy, or thy justice, active here?
Tell me, Almida, tell me in what light
Must I behold thee?

ALMIDA.
With a father's kindness.
On the grave's brink with tottering feet I stand;
Still o'er my head the knife uplifted hangs.
As to my honour 'tis unblemish'd, pure.
But ah! in pity lead me, lead me hence!
Save a distrest, an almost dying daughter
From this dire scene, from an insulting crowd,
Who gaze unpitying at my strange misfortunes,
View all my sorrows with unhallow'd eye,
Stare at my tears—those bitter tears, just heav'n!
Shed in a cause so virtuous, so unknown!