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Show (54) A W o m a n tovely, for when that is loft By thofe She was Ador'd, fhe'l be defpis'd. Tell her, if ever fhe has err'd, m y Ghoft By Day fhall haunt her walks, by Night her dreams, If in her fecret wifhes {he has fin'd : May Sicknefs watte her Beauty, Scorn her Pride, And Curfes heavy as her Crimes o're take her. Luc. Are thefe the Bleffings of a tender Brother ? Thefe the laft wifhes of a dying Friend ? One w h o was well acquainted with m y heart And knew it, never cou'd offend in this. Jop. Have you preferv'd the riches of your Youth f Inviolate the Honour of your Houfe, And ipotlefs as he left, is your Fame r Luc. What fawcy wretch ufurps aright o're me,. T o queftion m e of things m y Soul abhors, A trick the poor invention of Virotto. Can his bale jealoufie defcend fo low, T o fee m e thus infulted by a Slave > Jop. Advance thou witnefs of her Shame and Falfhood;, Confound her with the proofs of her difhonour ; With her, the bufinefs of the Night begins In her Lifes blood I'll wipe away the ftain She fixes on our name. For know Diffembler,- Thy Brother lives in me, thy injur'd Brother ;; W h o tho' he Iov'd thee like a Father once, N o w hates the more than ev'n his perjur'd Wife, And his juft Vengeance thus begins on thee. luc. M y Brother ! [falls'] [Offers to ftab her. Vir. Hold Jopano Micar her e re She dyes, [Held by Vir. W h o can behold that mourning Beauty thus And fufTer her to bleed ? W h o fee her tears, Her Charming forrow, and not feel his pity ; Melt at the fight, and fwear fhe fhall not Dye. Jop. Off ! if thou woud'ft> thy felf efcape m y fury If |
