And die as a man should; 'tis somewhat hard,
To call my scatter'd spirits home at once :
But since what must be, must be-let necessity
Supply the place of time and preparation,
And arm me for the blow. 'Tis but to die,
'Tis but to venture on that common hazard,
Which many a time in battle I have run;
"Tis but to do, what at that very moment,
"In many nations of the peopled earth,
"A thousand and a thousand shall do with me;"
'Tis but to close my eyes and shut out day-light,
To view no more the wicked ways of men,
No longer to behold the tyrant Gloster,
And be a weeping witness of the woes,
The desolation, slaughter, and calamities,
Which he shall bring on this unhappy land.

Enter ALICIA.

Alic. Stand off, and let me pass—I will I must Catch him once more in these despairing arms, And hold him to my heart-O Hastings! Hastings! Hast. Alas! why com'st thou at this dreadful mo

ment,

To fill me with new terrors, new distractions;
To turn me wild with thy distemper'd rage,

And shock the peace of my departing soul ?
Away, I pr'ythee leave me !

Alic. Stop a minute

Till my full griefs find passage-Oh, the tyrant!
Perdition fall on Gloster's head and mine.

Hast. What means thy frantic grief?

Alic. I cannot speak

But I have murder'd thee-Oh, I could tell thee! Hast. Speak and give ease to thy conflicting passion, Be quick, nor keep me longer in suspense,

Time presses, and a thousand crowding thoughts Break in at once! this way and that they snatch, They tear my hurry'd soul: All claim attention, And yet not one is heard. Oh! speak, and leave me, For I have business would employ an age,

And but a minute's time to get it done in.

Alic. That, that's my grief-'tis I that urge thee on, Thus haunt thee to the toil, sweep thee from earth, And drive thee down this precipice of fate.

Hast. Thy reason is grown wild. Could thy weak hand

Bring on this mighty ruin? If it could,
What have I done so grievous to thy soul,
So deadly, so beyond the reach of pardon,
That nothing but my life can make attonement?
Alic. Thy cruel scorn hath stung me to the heart,
And set my burning bosom all in flames:

Raving and mad I flew to my revenge,

And writ I know not what-told the protector,
That Shore's detested wife, by wiles, had won thee
To plot against his greatness-He believ'd it,
(Oh, dire event of my pernicious counsel!)
And, while I meant destruction on her head,
H' has turn'd it all on thine.

"Hast. Accursed jealousy!

"Oh, merciless, wild, and unforgiving fiend!
"Blindfold it runs to undistinguish'd mischief,
"And murders all it meets. Curst be its rage,

"For there is none so deadly; doubly curs'd
"Be all those easy fools who give it harbour;
"Who turn a monster loose among mankind,
"Fiercer than famine, war, or spotted pestilence;
"Baneful as death, and horrible as hell.

"Alic. If thou wilt curse, curse rather thine own falsehood;

"Curse the lewd maxims of thy perjur'd sex, "Which taught thee first to laugh at faith and justice ; "To scorn the solemn sanctity of oaths,

"And make a jest of a poor woman's ruin : "Curse thy proud heart, and thy insulting tongue, "That rais'd this fatal fury in my soul,

"And urg'd my vengeance to undo us both."

Hast. Oh, thou inhuman! Turn thy eyes away, And blast me not with their destructive beams: Why should I curse thee with my dying breath? Begone! and let me die in peace.

Alic. Can'st thou-Oh, cruel Hastings, leave me thus!

Hear me, I beg thee-I conjure thee, hear mel

While with an agonizing heart, I swear,

By all the pangs I feel, by all the sorrows,
The terrors and despair thy loss shall give me,
My hate was on my rival bent alone.

Oh! had I once divin'd, false as thou art,
A danger to thy life, I would have dy'd,

I would have met it for thee, and made bare
My ready faithful breast to save thee from it.

Hast Now mark! and tremble at Heaven's just award:

While thy insatiate wrath and fell revenge,
Pursu'd the innocence which never wrong'd thee,
Behold, the mischief falls on thee and me:
Remorse and heaviness of heart shall wait thee,
And everlasting anguish be thy portion:

For me, the snares of death are wound about me,
And now, in one poor moment, I am gone.
Oh! if thou hast one tender thought remaining,
Fly to thy closet, fall upon thy knees,
And recommend my parting soul to mercy.
Alic. Oh! yet before I go for ever from thee,
Turn thee in gentleness and pity to me,

And, in compassion of my strong affliction,
Say, is it possible you can forgive

The fatal rashness of ungovern'd love?

[Kneeling.

For, oh! 'tis certain, if I had not lov'd thee
Beyond my peace, my reason, fame, and life,
"Desir'd to death, and doated to destraction,"
This day of horror never should have known us.
Hast. Oh, rise, and let me hush thy stormy sor-

rows.

[Raising her. Assuage thy tears, for I will chide no more,

No more upbraid thee, thou unhappy fair one.
I see the hand of Heav'n is arm'd against me;
And, in mysterious Providence, decrees

To punish me by thy mistaken hand,

Most righteous doom! for, Oh, while I behold thee,
Thy wrongs rise up in terrible array,

And charge thy ruin on me; thy fair fame,
Thy spotless beauty, innocence, and youth,
Dishonour'd, blasted, and betray'd by me.

Alic. And does thy heart relent for my undoing?
Oh, that inhuman Gloster could be mov'd,
But half so easily as I can pardon !

Hast. Here then exchange we mutually forgiveness : So may the guilt of all my broken vows, My perjuries to thee, be all forgotten, As here my soul acquits thee of my death, As here I part without one angry thought, As here I leave thee with the softest tenderness, Mourning the chance of our disastrous loves, And begging Heav'n to bless and to support thee. Rat. My lord, dispatch; the duke has sent to chide

me,

For loitering in my duty

Hast. obey.

Alic. Insatiate, savage monster! Is a moment So tedious to thy malice? Oh, repay him,

Thou great avenger! Give him blood for blood: Guilt haunt him! fiends pursue him! lightnings blast

him!

"Some horrid, cursed kind of death o'ertake him, "Sudden, and in the fulness of his sins !"

That he may know how terrible it is,

To want that moment he denies thee now.

Hast. This rage is all in vain, "that tears thy bosom;