Page:The Mysterious Mother - Walpole (1781).djvu/71
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A TRAGEDY.
63
If these emotions are imputed to me,
I have one sin I cannot yet repent of!
I have one sin I cannot yet repent of!
ADELIZA.
Oh! raise thee from the earth. Shall I behold thee
Prostrate, embracing an unfriended beggar?
Or dost thou mock me still? What is my lot?
Wilt thou yet cherish me? Or do the great
Exalt us but in sport, lend us a taste,
A vision of enjoyment, and then dash us
To poverty, more poignant by comparison?
Sure I could never wanton with affliction!
Oh! raise thee from the earth. Shall I behold thee
Prostrate, embracing an unfriended beggar?
Or dost thou mock me still? What is my lot?
Wilt thou yet cherish me? Or do the great
Exalt us but in sport, lend us a taste,
A vision of enjoyment, and then dash us
To poverty, more poignant by comparison?
Sure I could never wanton with affliction!
COUNTESS.
Ah! canst thou doubt this conflict of the soul!
Mock thee!—oh! yes, there are such savage natures,
That will deride thy woes—and thou must bear it—
With foul reproach will gall thy spotless soul,
And taunt thee with a crime past thy conceiving.
Oh! 'tis to shield thee from this world of sorrows,
That thou must fly, must wed, must never view
The tow'rs of Narbonne more; must never know
The doom reserv'd for thy sad patroness!
Ah! canst thou doubt this conflict of the soul!
Mock thee!—oh! yes, there are such savage natures,
That will deride thy woes—and thou must bear it—
With foul reproach will gall thy spotless soul,
And taunt thee with a crime past thy conceiving.
Oh! 'tis to shield thee from this world of sorrows,
That thou must fly, must wed, must never view
The tow'rs of Narbonne more; must never know
The doom reserv'd for thy sad patroness!
ADELIZA.
Who threatens thy dear life! recall thy son.
His valiant arm will stem a host of foes,
Replace thy lord, and woo thee to be happy.
Who threatens thy dear life! recall thy son.
His valiant arm will stem a host of foes,
Replace thy lord, and woo thee to be happy.
COUNTESS.
Hah! little imp of darkness! dost thou wear
That angel form to gird me with upbraidings!
Fly, e'er my rage forget distinction, nature,
And make a medley of unheard-of crimes.
Fly, e'er it be too late—
Hah! little imp of darkness! dost thou wear
That angel form to gird me with upbraidings!
Fly, e'er my rage forget distinction, nature,
And make a medley of unheard-of crimes.
Fly, e'er it be too late—
ADELIZA.
For pity!
For pity!
COUNTESS.