Imo. Strike, strike it home, and bravely save us

both.

There is no other safety.

Oro. It must be

But first a dying kiss

This last embrace

And now

Imo. I'm ready.

Oro. Oh! where shall I strike?

[Kisses her. [Embracing her.

Is there the smallest grain of that lov'd body
That is not dearer to me than my eyes,

My bosom❜d heart, and all the life blood there?
Bid me cut off these limbs, hew off these hands,
Dig out these eyes-tho' I would keep them last
To gaze upon thee-but to murder thee,
The joy, the charm of every ravish'd sense!
My wife!-forbid it, nature.

Imo. 'Tis your wife,

Who on her knees conjures you. Oh, in time,
Prevent those mischiefs that are falling on us!
You may be hurried to a shameful death,
And I too dragg'd to the vile governor.
Then may I cry aloud. When you are gone,
Where shall I find a friend again to save me?
Oro. It will be so. Thou unexampled virtue !
Thy resolution has recover'd mine.

And now prepare thee.

Imo. Thus, with open arms,

I welcome you and death.

[He drops his dagger as he looks on her, and throws

himself on the ground.

Oro. I cannot bear it.

Oh, let me dash against the rock of fate,
Dig up this earth, and tear her bowels out,
To make a grave, deep as the centre down,
To swallow wide, and bury us together!
It wo'not be. Oh, then some pitying god,
(If there be one a friend to innocence)
Find yet a way to lay her beauties down

Gently in death, and save me from her blood.
Imo. Oh, rise! 'tis more than death to see you

thus.

I'll ease your love, and do the deed myself

[She takes up the dagger, he rises in haste to take it from her.

Oro. Oh, hold! I charge thee, hold.

Imo. Tho' I must own

It would be nobler for us both from you.

Oro. Oh, for a whirlwind's wing, to hurry us To yonder cliff, which frowns upon the flood, That, in embraces lock'd, we might plunge in, And perish thus in one another's arms.

Imo. Alas! what shout is that?

Oro. I see them coming.

They sha'not overtake us. This last kiss,
And now, farewell.

Imo. Farewell, farewell, for ever.

Oro. I'll turn my face away, and do it so. Now, are you ready?

Imo. Now. But do not grudge me

The pleasure, in my death, of a last look

Pray, look upon me—Now I'm satisfied.
Oro. So fate must be by this.

[Going to stab her, he stops short; she lays her hand
on his, in order to give the blow.

Imo. Nay, then I must assist you.
And since it is the common cause of both,
'Tis just that both should be employ'd in it.
Thus, thus, 'tis finish'd; and I bless my fate,

[Stabs herself.

That, where I liv'd, I die, in these lov'd arms.

[Dies. Òro. She's gone. And now all's at an end with

me.

Soft, lay her down-Oh, we will part no more!

[Then throws himself by her.

But let me pay the tribute of my grief,

A few sad tears to thy lov'd memory,

[Weeps over her. [A noise again.

It shall be so,

The noise comes nearer. Hold, before I go
There's something would be done.
And then, Imoinda, I'll come all to thee.

[Rises.

BLANDFORD and his party enter before the Governor and his party, swords drawn on both sides.

Gov. You strive in vain to save him; he shall die. Blan. Not while we can defend him with our lives. Gov. Where is he?

Oro. Here is the wretch whom you would have.
Put up your swords, and let not civil broils
Engage you in the cursed cause of one

Who cannot live, and now entreats to die.
This object will convince you.

Blan. 'Tis his wife.

[They gather about the body.

Alas, there was no other remedy!
Gov. Who did the bloody deed?
Oro. The deed was mine-

Bloody I know it is; and I expect

Your laws should tell me so. Thus, self-condemn'd, I do resign myself into your hands,

The hands of justice— -But I hold the sword -and for myself.

For you

[Stabs the Governor and himself, then throws himself by Imoinda's body.

"Stan. He has kill'd the Governor and stabb'd "himself."

Oro. 'Tis as it should be now -I have sent his

ghost

To be a witness of that happiness

In the next world, which he deny'd us here. [Dies.

Blan. I hope there is a place of happiness

In the next world for such exalted virtue.

Pagan or unbeliever, yet he liv'd

To all he knew; and, if he went astray,
There's mercy still above to set him right.
But Christians, guided by the heavenly ray,
Have no excuse if we mistake our way.

[Exeunt.

L