Page:Poems of Anne Countess of Winchilsea 1903.djvu/537

This page needs to be proofread.

COUNTESS OF WINCHILSEA 399 �Amal. Hear me but speak, Clarinthus: My Father's Life already I've secur'd; And if you yet will quit this dang'rous Purpose, Yours with Rewards, as great as your Desires, Shall too be given you, and all Wrongs lie bury'd. �Clar. More than I love Rewards, I hate Messenia; 100 Therefore alive or dead will bear you from 'em. �[He offers to sieze her, she keeping him off with her Dagger kneels. �Amal. Oh! Pity yet my Youth, and wretched Fortunes: A Princess at your Feet behold in Tears, And Spare the Blood, the Royal Blood of Sparta. �Clar. Yes, and be lost our selves to save a Trayt'ress? For, such you've been to that high Blood you've boasted. I will not spare nor pity, but thus seize you. �[He wrests the Dagger from her, she rises hastily and followed by Phila escapes into the Tent, Clarinthus pursues her, and immediately the Cries of Women are heard. �Enter at the other Door Aristor and Soldiers. �Aristor. Oh! we are come in time. Detested Villains, Your Deaths are all that you shall meet with here. �[They fight. Re-enter Clarinthus. �Clar. The Victim's struck which could not be borne off. Now my next Task 111 �Must be to rescue those, who shar'd the Danger. �[He runs at Aristor, who kills him, he speaks falling. Thou'st kill'd Clarinthus; And The Fiends reward thee. �Aristor. Dye ; and those Fiends thou call'st on meet thy �Spirit. I askt but that, to crown the War we've ended. �[He and his Men fall on the rest, fighting off the Stage. ��� �