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Show 52 B U S 1 R I S, T o which I'm fubjedt, ftruck a-crofs m y Heart; 'Tis paft, I'm well again. Nic. Heav'n guard your Health. Myr. Do'ft thou then wifh it r* AT/<: A m i then diftruited ? Then when I fav'd your Life, I did the leaft I e'er wou'd do to ferve you. Myr Barbarous M a n ! Nic. What hive I done, m y Prince, which way offended ? Has not m y Life, m y Soul been yours ? Myr. Oh ! Oh ! Nic. By Heav'n I'm wrong'd, fpeak and I'll clear myfelf. [takes him by the Hani Myr. I'm Poifon and Deftro&ion, curie thy Godi, I'll kill thee in Comp.>fiVn ! Oi my Brain ! Away, away, away. (fhoves him from him, going, Nic. Do, kill me, Prince You fhall not go, I do demand the Caufe, Which h^s put forth thy Hand againft thy Father! For thus provok'd, I'll do my felf rhe Juftice, T o tell thVe, Youth, that I deferve that Name, Nor have thy Parents l^ved thee more than I. Myr. I hear them, they arc on m e Loofe thy Hold, Or I will plant m y Dagger in thy Breaft. Nic. Your Dagger's necdlefs ! Oh ungrateful Boy! Myr. Forgive me, Father, O h m y Soul bleeds for thee. (embrace, Js he is going out, Auletes meets him, andfpeah to him afide. "What, no Efcnpe ? on ev'ry Side inclos'd ! T h e n I refolve to perifh by his Hand, *Tis juft I fhou'd, and meaner Death I fcorn. But h o w to work him to m y Fate, to fling His Faflion cp fo high, will be a Task, T o m e fevere, as difficult as ftrange. Support me, cruel Heart, it muft be done, [off* Your Grief is juft. It was inhumane in y o u - But tell the Caufe, unravel from the Bottom The Myftery that has cmbroil'd our Lov^s, (For ftill, m y Prince, Hove, fine you repent.) What Accident deprtv'd m e of m y Friend, vou voufelf What !VA.lU«Uli ut^uy U MJG And loft you to youfelf ? Myr. A Traifor's Sight ! Mr. Beneath m y Roof? Myr. Beneath thy very Helmet, Tftou art a Traitor Guard thy felf. XT)rt>w Nic. Diftr.chon ! ' L Traitor ! -, For ftanding by your Father's Thro: e ; And foaming the wild Stream that roars againft it Ol Rebel oubjedts, ano of foreign Foes? For training thee to Glory and to War'? For taking thee out of thy Mother's \rnis A mortal Child, and kindling in thy Soul The noble Ardors of a future God ? Farewel I dare not truft m y Temper more. Mrr. Gray headed, venerable Tray tor ! Enter Ramefes. Ram. Ha / Turn, turn Blafphemer, and reprefs thv ~T . AH location's needlefs b,t S J S r t V ^ ^ Ram. Forbear ? Nc If I am calm, lour^geihouldceafe, Ram, |