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Show B U S I R I S, A\ H(.r (hcken'd Bofom, her relenting Mien, To uftifv the b Uckeft Crime., and gild E i n and Death with her deftrua.ee Charms. Mil- Vou'll force her then? Mvr Thou Villain but to tmnk it. N o I'll follicit her with all m y P o w r , f l ft ^ d Crowns lhall fpericl*:m her Sight. If <v- co.ifent thy Prince is blefs'd indeed, T & . W l S ! " an'd tow'r. abov.Mortahty , If fhe refill, I put an End to Fain, And lay m y breatWefi Body at her Feet. Mandane pajfing at a diftance to her Chamber. My. ron meets her. Mand. Is this well done, my Lord? Myr Condemn m e not Before you hear m e ; let this Pofture tell you, I'm not fo guilty as perhaps your Fears, Your commendable, model! *ears fufpeCi: Nay, do not go, you know not what you do j Return, or good Nicanor, bell.of Fathers, Shall charge you withche Murder ot his friend. Mand. And dare youthen pronounce that facred N<ime, And yet perfift ! W e r e you his mortal Foe Whit cou'd your Malice more ? Myr. Oh Fair Mandane ! I know my Fault, I know your Virtue too, But fuch the Violence of my Diforder, That I dare tempt e'en you : Methwki that Guilt Has fomething lovely which V**™^™^U But touch me with your Hand, I die wi h mt. W h y fwellsyour Eye ? By Heav'n d rath r fee All Nature mourn, thau you .et: rail a I own I'm mad, but I am mad ot Love ^ KING of Egypt. 45 Yon can't condem me more, than 1 my fcif, In what we are agreed, agree in all Condemn, but pit> m e ; refent, but yie.d ; For oh, I burn, I rave I die with Love J Mand. Oh Sir! Myr. Nay, do not, weepfo, it will kill rr.e. This Moment, while fpeak, m y Eyes aie darken d, I cannot fee thee, and m y trembling Limbs Refufe to bear their Weight ; all letc of Life h that I Love, if Love was in our Pow'r, The fault were mine j fince not, you muft comply; How God-like to beftow more heav'nly Joys Than you can think, and I fupport, and live ? Mand. Oh, how can you abufeyour facred Reafon, That Particle of Heav'n, that Soul of Jove, To varniih o'er and paint fo black a Crime ! Oh Prince / Myr. What fays Mandane ? Mand. Sir, Obferve me, My burfting Sighs, and ever-ftreaming Tears s Your noble Nature has with pity feen ; Bat wou'd they not work deeper in your Soul, Were you convine'd m y Sorrows flow ior you ? For you, my Lord, they flow, ior I a m fife, (l know youars furpris'd) they flow for you ; Myron, my Father's Friend, m y Prince, m y GueA - my Peace, Tears ? ,- w. ^oncprn JJ> great, as to behold a gen'rous Mind D be* h |