And justice lingers in my lazy hand; Thus let me wipe dishonour from my name, And cut thee from the earth, thou stain to gcodness[Offers to kill Calista, Altamont holds him. Alt. Stay thee, Sciolto, thou rash father, stay, Or turn the point on me, and through my breast Cut out the bloody passage to Calista : So shall my love be perfect, while for her I die, for whom alone I wish'd to live. 160 Cal. No, Altamont; my heart that scorn'd thy love, Shall never be indebted to thy pity. Thus torn, defac'd, and wretched as I seem, Yes, yes, my father, I applaud thy justice; 'Tis sharp, 'tis terrible, and I could curse The cheerful day, men, earth, and heav'n, and thee, Ev'n thee, thou venerable good old man, For being author of a wretch like me. Alt. Listen not to the wildness of her raving; Remember nature! Should thy daughter's murder Defile that hand, so just, so great in arms, Her blood would rest upon thee to posterity, Pollute thy name, and sully all thy wars. 180 Cal. Have I not wrong'd his gentle nature much? And yet behold him pleading for my life! Lost as thou art to virtue, Oh, Calista! I think thou can'st not bear to be outdone; Then haste to die, and be oblig'd no more. Sci. Thy pious care has giv'n me time to think, And sav'd me from a crime; then rest, my sword; To honour have I kept thee ever sacred, Nor will I stain thee with a rash revenge. Ev'n to a Roman strictness; and thou, nature, Cal. Then am I doom'd to live, and bear your triumph? Το groan beneath your scorn and fierce upbraiding, Daily to be reproach'd, and have my misery At morn, at noon, at night told over to me, "Lest my remembrance might grow pitiful, "And grant a moment's interval of peace;" Is this, is this the mercy of a father? I only beg to die, and he denies me. 200 Sci. Hence, from my sight! thy father cannot bear thee; Fly with thy infamy to some dark cell, Where, on the confines of eternal night, Mourning, misfortune, cares, and anguish dwell; G This fatal form that drew on my undoing, Nor ought that may continue hated life. Sci. Who of my servants wait there? Enter two or three Servants. Raise that body, and bear it in. On your lives [Exeunt Servants, with Lothario's body. Alt. There is a fatal fury in your visage, It blazes fierce, and menaces destruction.] "My father, I am sick of many sorrows, "Ev'n now my easy heart is breaking with 'em; "Yet, above all, one fear distracts me most;" I tremble at the vengeance which you meditate On the poor, faithless, lovely, dear Calista. Sci. Hast thou not read what brave Virginius did? With his own hand he slew his only daughter, To save her from the fierce Decemvir's lust. He slew her, yet unspotted, to prevent The shame which she might know. Then what should I do? 240 But thou hast ty'd my hand.I wo' not kill her; Alt. You mean that she shall die then? Sci. Ask me not what, nor how I have resolv'd, Had spent the evening of my age at home, There, like an old man, talk'd a-while, and then Enter a Servant. Serv. Arm yourself, my lord: Rossano, who but now escap'd the garden, Sci. By Heav'n, their fury rises to my wish, 266 [Exit. But thou, Lothario, and thy race shall pay me [Exit Sciolto. "Alt. There is a stupid weight upon my senses; "A dismal sullen stillness, that succeeds "The storm of rage and grief, like silent death, "After the tumult and the noise of life. "Would it were death, as sure 'tis wond'rous like it, "For I am sick of living; my soul's pall'd, 280 "She kindles not with anger or revenge: "Love was th' informing, active fire within : "Now that is quench'd, the mass forgets to move, "And longs to mingle with its kindred earth." [A tumultuous noise, with clashing of swords, as at a little distance. Enter LAVINIA, with two Servants, their swords drawn. [Exeunt Servants. Alt. Art thou Lavinia? Oh! what barb'rous hand |