Volume Iii Part 104 (2/2)

But you're my Prince, and that I own you so, Is all remains in me of Sense or Justice; The rest is Rage, which if thou gett'st not hence Will eat up that small morsel too of Reason, And leave me nothing to preserve thy life with.

_Phi_. G.o.ds, am I tame, and hear the Traytor brave me?

[_Offers to run into him_.

I have resentment left, though nothing else.

_Alcip_. Stand off, by all that's good, I'll kill thee else.

[Er. _puts her self between_.

_Er_. Ah, hold, Sir, hold, the Prince has no defence, And you are more than arm'd; [_To_ Alcip.

What honour is't to let him murder you? [_To the_ Prince.

--Nor would your Fame be lessen'd by retreat.

_Phi_. Alas, I dare not leave thee here with him.

_Er_. Trust me, Sir, I can make him calm again.

_Alcip_. She counsels well, and I advise you take it.

_Phi_. I will, but not for fear of thee or Death, But from th'a.s.surance that her Power's sufficient To allay this unbecoming Fury in thee, And bring thee to repentance.

[_He gives him his Sword_; Philander _goes out_, Alcippus _locks the door after him_.

_Er. Alcippus_, what do you mean?

_Alcip_. To know where 'twas you learn'd this Impudence?

Which you're too cunning in, Not to have been a stale pract.i.tioner.

_Er_. Alas, what will you do?

_Alcip_. Preserve thy Soul, if thou hast any sense Of future Joys, after this vile d.a.m.n'd Action.

_Er_. Ah, what have I done?

_Alcip_. That which if I should let thee live, _Erminia_, Would never suffer thee to look abroad again.

--Thou'st made thy self and me-- Oh, I dare not name the Monsters.-- But I'll destroy them while the G.o.ds look down, And smile upon my Justice.

[_He strangles her with a Garter, which he s.n.a.t.c.hes from his Leg, or smothers her with a pillow_.

_Er_. Hold, hold, and hear my Vows of Innocence.

_Alcip_. Let me be d.a.m.n'd as thou art, if I do; [_Throws her on a Bed, he sits down in a Chair_.

--So now, my Heart, I have redeem'd thee n.o.bly, Sit down and pause a while-- But why so still and tame, is one poor Murder Enough to satisfy thy storm of Pa.s.sion?

If it were just, it ought not here to end; --If not--I've done too much--

[_One knocks, he rises after a little pause, and opens the door; enter_ Page.

_Page_. My Lord, _Pisaro_--

_Alcip. Pisaro_,--Oh, that Name has wakened me, A Name till now had never Terror in't!

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