400 THE POEMS OF ANNE �Enter Amalintha wounded and supported by Phila. �Amal. Phila thy Hand; help me to reach that Couch, The dying Bed of wretched Amalintha! Nay do not weep, since 'tis the Fate's Decree, Who let one luckless Moment interpose 120 �Betwixt Aristor's coming, and my Ruin. Here, set me down ; and let this last Embrace [Sits doivn. Reward the Cares and Fears, my Life has cost thee. Now leave me, Phila, to perform a Part Which must not be prevented by thy Tears. �Phila. Thus pale, thus faint, thus dying must I leave you ! �Amal. Yes ; if thou wilt obey, thou must retire. But be not far, and when thou seest me fall'n Dead in Aristor's Arms, who'll soon return, Come forth, and tell him 'twas my last Request 130 �(By all our Love, by all our Sighs and Sorrows, By our new Vows, and swiftly faded Joys) That He wou'd yet survive his Amalintha; Nor let my fatal Vision prove a Truth, That 'twas my Fate, my hasty Fate that kill'd him. �Phila. Let me but stay, at least 'till he's arriv'd. �Amal. 'Twou'd cross my Purpose, hark! I hear him �coming. �Quickly retire and let me hide this Stream, Lest he shou'd swell it with a Flood of Tears, And waste in Grief my small remaining Life, 140 �Which I design to lavish out in Love. �[Phila goes off. Amalintha pulls her Garment over her Wound. About him let my dying Arms be thrown, Whilst I deny my parting Life one Groan. My failing Breath shall in soft Sighs expire, And tender Words spend my last vital Fire ; That of my Death Men this Account may give, She ceas'd to Love, as others cease to Live. ��� �
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