Page:Miscellaneous Plays 1.pdf/406

ELLA (pulling Rodrigo back).

Hold, I do beseech thee!

For pity, hold! it is my wretched father.

RODRIGO.

Wretched indeed!

ELLA.

Ay, therefore pity him.

Let him escape: he hath done me no harm.
He is here as a fox in his last wiles,
Who shelter seeks within the very kennel
O' the rous'd pack: Oh, have some pity on him!
He is my father.

RODRIGO.

Sweet Ella, hang not thus upon mine arm:

It hath no power to strike whom thou call'st father,
Shame as he is unto that honour'd name.
But there are ties upon me, gentle maid:
The safety and the interests of Constantine
I am bound to defend: and shall a traitor———

ELLA.

Oh! oh!

RODRIGO.

Fear not: our royal master is return'd

From blessed rites of holiest charity
With meekly chasten'd soul: whate'er his crimes