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V.

       Table of Contents

      the duke, lisois, an officer.

      officer.

       My lord, the foe advances; we expect

       A fierce assault, and wait your orders; time

       Is precious.

      duke.

       Cruel fate! to counteract

       My noble purpose! then farewell to peace,

       And welcome, victory! I’ll deserve Amelia:

       I heed not these rash fools: of all the foes

       I have to conquer, there’s but one to fear,

       And that’s—Amelia.

      End of the Second Act.

      ACT III.

      SCENE I.

       Table of Contents

      duke of foix, lisois.

      duke.

       The day is ours; thanks to thy friendly hand

       That guided my rash youth; thy noble soul,

       In peace or war, is my best counsellor.

      lisois.

       The glorious fire that animates thy heart

       Must always conquer, when ’tis checked by prudence,

       As here it was: preserve this happy virtue,

       ’Twill make thee happy, and ’twill make thee great;

       The coward is restless, but the hero calm.

      duke.

       How is the lover? can he ever taste

       Of sweet tranquillity? But say, my friend,

       This unknown chief, that mounted on our ramparts,

       And with his single arm so long suspended

       The doubtful victory: I grow jealous of him:

       Where is he? what became of him?

      lisois.

       Surrounded

       By slaughtered friends, alone long time he stood,

       And braved opposing legions; but what most

       Surprised us, when at length he had escaped

       From every danger, wondrous to relate!

       He yielded up himself a prisoner to us;

       Conceals his rank and name, accuses heaven,

       And begs for instant death. One friend alone

       Attends him, and partakes his sorrows.

      duke.

       Lisois,

       Who can this bold, this fearless soldier be?

       He wore his beaver down: some secret charm

       O’erpowered my trembling soul when I opposed him.

       Whether this fatal passion that enslaves me

       Hath spread its weakness o’er each faculty,

       And left the soft impression on my soul,

       Or that my bleeding country’s voice alarmed

       This conscious heart, and silently reproached me.

      lisois.

       As for the weakness of thy soul, advice

       I know were vain, but sure thy country’s voice

       May still be heard; now is the time to show

       The greatness of thy soul, and give us peace.

       Fortune, that smiled on us to-day, perhaps

       May frown to-morrow, and thy pride be forced

       To sue for pardon to a haughty foe.

       Since thou art happy, and Amelia’s thine,

       Now rest thy glory on the common cause,

       This brave unknown may forward our designs;

       Let us improve the lucky moment.

      duke.

       Yes,

       My friend, I will do all to serve Amelia,

       Her cause is mine: I must prepare the minds

       Of my brave followers for the change; to thee,

       And to thy happy counsels, every bliss,

       Glory and peace, and hymeneal joys,

       To thee I owe, to friendship and to love.

      SCENE II.

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      lisois, vamir and emar at the farther end of the stage.

      lisois.

       It is the noble prisoner, and his friend,

       If I mistake not: this way they advance;

       He seems o’erwhelmed with deep despair.

      vamir.

       O heaven!

       Where am I? whither dost thou lead me?

      lisois.

       Stranger,

       Whoe’er thou art, be comforted; thy fate

       Hath thrown thee into noble hands: thou’lt find

       A generous master, who can see desert

       Even in a foe: may I not ask thy name?

      vamir.

       I am a poor abandoned wretch, the sport

       Of fortune, one whose least affliction is

       To be a captive, and from every eye

       Would wish to hide the story of my fate:

       It is enough to be supremely wretched,

       Without this cruel witness of my woe:

       Too soon my name and sorrows will be known.

      lisois.

       Respect is due to misery like thine;

       I will not urge thee further, but retire:

       Perhaps even here thy soul may find relief

       In generous treatment, and a milder fate.

      SCENE III.

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      vamir, emar.

      vamir.

       A milder fate! I must not hope for it:

       O I have lived too long.

      emar.

       Thank heaven, my lord,

       That we are fallen amongst such noble foes,

       And shall not groan beneath a stranger’s power.

      vamir.

       No yoke sometimes so galling as a brother’s.

      emar.

       But you were bred together, and the ties

       Of tenderest friendship linked your hearts.

      vamir.