Whose feeble arm, unstung by death, can cope
With thine no more?
Ray. Oh, was it all too little,
All thou hast done, but when one gleam of hope
To tear my countess from the tyrant's arms
Shed the last beam of comfort on my soul,
That thou must also blot and trample down!
O stain of manhood! where are now thy ruffians,
Thy lurking murderers? But guard thee, villain.
Guise. Oh fame, report it, how the mighty soul
Of noble Raymond, raging with the lust
Of groveling vengeance, gave his sword to mangle
The corse already shivering in the arms
Of swift approaching death. Oh yes, hold hero,
Yes; stain thy honour with the unmanly rage
Of giving wound on wound when faint and dying
Thy foe resists no more.
Ray, I thank thee caitiff,
For warning me. I would not stain my sword
To rob thee only of a dying moment.
Thy cowardice has purchas'd thee some minutes
Of longer gasping-O, thou art so bloated
With basest guilt, I cannot bear to view thee.
My happiness, which never was the fruit
Of other's woe, spread wide its blooming honours
In a kind soil, when thou, a brutal plunderer,
Hast thrown its fairest blossoms in the dust――
My life-blood fails; thy lurking ruffian's swords
Have found the mortal part: yet, thanks to Heaven,
Thy purpose shall be blighted.
Guise. And art thou wounded?
Ye powers of death assist me! [Drawing his sword. Ray. Villain! [They fight, Guise falls.
There lie, detested coward!
Cold in my bosom smarts the murdering sword
That kill'd my last fond hope.
Guise. Oh this is terrible!
He that receives a wrong-he, he is happy,
Compar'd to him who gave it!
My crimes, oh horrible, and death's hand on me!
Enter BRAMVILLE, RONSARD and servants, with EEMOINE veiled.
Ron. Still not in vain, my lord, is our attempt. [To Raymond. We rescued her from Guise's ruffian bands: But let us haste from hence. Ah Heaven, you bleed. [Bramville and Ronsard support Raymond. Ray. Death gently beckons me: Oh speed my friends
To Sicily, and place my rescu'd spouse
[Eemoine drops the veil. Heavens, is it thee! O now my heart is van
Kneeling before thee. Mark me, great thy wrongs, And this their fruits-
[Stabs herself, the dagger snatched from her.
-Yet life seems slow to fly.
Oh, while it lingers bear me to the countess:
Pursue and snatch her from the slaves of Guise.
Yet let me ask forgiveness.
Ray. Bramville, thy friendly arms
Were the kind shelter of my infant years.
Yet, yet, my friends, by all your dearest cares,
Oh soothe my ghost, save my Erminia.
What pleasing indolence—O death, I come!
[Dies
Bram. Peace to thy noble soul!
Oh gentleness,
That fortune's giddy height could never change!
Oh nobleness of every gallant virtue,
Is this the best acquittance the base world
Could give to thee?
Enter the COUNTESS, looking at EEмoine.
Coun. Hast thou again betray'd me! if my ser-
Had not now rescued me--
My evil angel, why thus glar'st thou at me!
Eem. The treacherous flow of spirits
That gave the blow has left me: deep, oh deep,
[Sinking down.
And deeper still I sink. Oh black'ning horrours,
Is there no help?-Alas, no gleam of hope!
How dreadful is your silence! Mercy Heaven,
Injur'd Erminia, canst thou forgive me?
Thy husband lov'd thee, ever fondly lov'd thee.
Hence, hence, ye hissing adders--Ah, it flashes!
Now, now 't is darkness
[Dies. Erm. My husband did she say! O yes, he lov'd me. Ha, what[Turning to Raymond. -My husband murder'd! [Kneeling down by himArise, my noble Raymond, rise, And let us fly
Bram. Assume the sacred veil,
The holy cloister's walls shall then protect you,
And melancholy peace may shed her balm
On life's cold evening--
Erm. Take my child away-
Oh Heaven, how dreadful these upbraiding looks
From my own infant! Ask me not, I know not
Who slew thy father-Gracious Heaven!
No child is here; but here my murder'd husband!
[Faints.
Bram. Ha!--what resounding tumult !ˇ
Lord Adm. Oh, my lord,
'T is treason's triumph o'er our country's fall.
Few moments since I saw the warlike Bourbon
Grasping the victory, ride through the field,
His eye-balls fir'd with joy.
Bram. Alas the king!
Enter the KING, guarded by Spanish soldiers.
King. Off--your base hands, you slavesBram. Amidst thy bitter feelings for thyself, Look here, fallen king-
[Pointing to the Countess and Raymond. Low lies thy faithfullest, Thy bravest peer--These are the horrid triumphs Of thy lewd revels!
King. These--Oh Heaven, couldst thou Restore me yesterday!
Ron. When gallant injur'd Raymond
King. Insidious villain, in a baser slavery
Sheath'd his good sword, then thou and France Than this thou long hast held me.
were conquer'd.
[trigues,
Bram. Lord Admiral, deep were your state in-
Yet mark this truth: the favourite care of Heaven,
Though fortify'd with all the brazen mounds
That art can rear, and watch'd by eagle's eyes,
Still will some rotten part betray the structure
That is not bas'd by simple honesty.
Lord Adm. Patience, my liege, were now becom-
ing grandeur.
Left friendless in the field! me, and my cause,
So hated, none to back me! Hah! and must I
Be led to Bourbon? Must that haughty traitor,
Avengeful Heaven! must he pronounce my fate?
O had I died a monarch in the field!
Deeply, O Raymond, deeply art thou reveng'd!
Now I'm no king indeed!
[Exeunt omnes.
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