A strong resemblance, over which your tears
Had oft been shed, was stol'n away?
COUNTESS.
How it was stol'n, for value it had none
For any but myself, I often wonder'd.
Thou hast not found it?
SOPHERA.
(Giving her a picture, which she seizes eagerly.)
COUNTESS.
(After gazing mournfully on it.)
Retire, I pray thee, nor, till morning break,
Return again, for I must be alone.
[Exit Sophera.
(After gazing again on the picture.)
Alas! that lip, that eye, that arching brow;
That thoughtful look which I have often mark'd,
So like my noble father! (Kissing it.)
This for his dear, dear sake, and this for thine:
Ye sleep i' the dust together.—
Alas! how sweetly mantled thus thy cheek
At sight of those thou lovedst!—What things have been,
What hours, what years of trouble have gone by,
