THE ENGLISH MARTYRS.
7
Gomez, (turning from her.) Then perish! lost
In thine own blindness!
Edith, (suddenly throwing herself at his feet,)
Father! hear me yet!
Oh! if the kindly touch of human love
Hath ever warmed thy breast
Gomez.Away—away!
I know not love.
Edith. Yet hear! if thou hast known
The tender sweetness of a mother's voice—
If the true vigil of affection's eye
Hath watch'd thy childhood—if fond tears have e'er
Been shower'd upon thy head—if parting words
E'er pierced thy spirit with their tenderness—
Let me but look upon his face once more,
Let me but say—Farewell, my soul's beloved!
And I will bless thee still!
Gomez, (aside.)Her soul may yield,
Beholding him in fetters; woman's faith
Will bend to woman's love—
