University of Virginia Library

SCENE IV.

Arnolph, Almida, Sophia.
SOPHIA.
My dearest mistress! share the public joy;
Tancred has greatly fought; beneath his arm
Sink the last remnants of a shatter'd army.
A victim glorious to our country's vengeance,
And for your wrongs, a great, and just atonement,
The haughty Solyman, at Tancred's feet,
Bleeding and lifeless, stains the dusty field.
Fame spreads the news; the people flock around him,
Name him their hero, their support and glory!
One warrior only had pursu'd his steps,
The faithful Aldamon, whom once you knew;
[to Arnolph.
For when our knights to succour him arriv'd,
The war was over, Tancred was triumphant.
Hear you these shouts? they speak him near and glorious.
A thousand busy hands prepare him laurels.
How his kind heart, when undeceiv'd and happy,
Shall beat with love, soft shame, and tender pity!
All smiles around you!

ALMIDA.
Every fluttering pulse
Beats with emotion eager—long estrang'd
To real peace, my hurried senses run
In quick extremes from grief to ardent joy
In sweet confusion! Now indeed I live,
My dearest father! ah! let us adore
That hand which gives us all we fear'd to lose.
I will forget my woes, do you forgive
My wild upbraidings, tears, and weak complaints.

ARNOLPH.
Yes, heaven vouchsafes to wipe away our tears.
Or I'm deceiv'd, or Aldamon approaches;
'Tis so—'tis he, the messenger of joy:
But whence those ling'ring steps? those downcast eyes?
Alas! I fear him wounded—