Bel. With the gentlest patience. Bel. These last two days, You know, my care was wholly bent on you, Who menace those with death that bring her comfort, Shore. Let them threaten : Let proud oppression prove its fiercest malice; To give her help, and share one fortune with her.. Bel. And have you thought upon the consequence? Bel. Have you examin'd Into your inmost heart, and tried at leisure The sev'ral secret springs that move the passions? 'Shore. Why dost thou search so deep and urge my To set in dread array my wrongs again? "I have long labour'd to forget myself, [memory To think on all time, backward, like a space, Shoot all their fires, and drive me to distraction. 'Recall forgotten rage, and make the husband 6 Shore. Oh! thou hast set my busy brain at work, And now she musters up a train of images, What was there art could make or wealth could buy, Shore. Oh! that day! The thought of it must live for ever with me. Fast-falling on her hands, which, thus, she wrung- Bel. Alas! for pity! Oh! those speaking tears! Look on her now; behold her where she wanders, Shore. And can she bear it? Can that delicate frame Endure the beating of a storm so rude? Can she, for whom the various seasons chang'd Intreat for bread, and want the needful raiment, * And, to the last, bended their light on me. Hamlet, A. 11. S. I. +"Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by? behold and see, if "there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow, which is done unto me. wherewith the Lord hath afflicted me in the day of his fierce anger.' Lamentations 1, 12. So loving to my mother, That he might not beteem the winds of heaven Visit her face too roughly. Hamlet, A. I. S. II. Drenches her locks, and kills her with the cold. Bel. Somewhere about this quarter of the town, I hear the poor abandon'd creature lingers: Her guard, though set with strictest watch to keep All food and friendship from her, yet permit her To wander in the streets, there choose her bed, And rest her head on what cold stone she pleases. Shore. Here let us, then, divide, each in his round To search her sorrows out; whose hap it is First to behold her, this way let him lead Her fainting steps, and meet we here together. [Exeunt. SCENE II. Another Street. JANE SHORE is discovered leaning against an archway in the middle of the stage, her hair hanging loose on her shoulders, and bare-footed.* J. Sho. Yet, yet endure, nor murmur, oh! my soul! And press thee like a weight of waters down?+ * It appears an impropriety when this play is acted and the scene draws and discovers Jane Shore, in a clean white dress, (as, I believe, is invariably the case,) though Belmour has been giving an account of her sufferings in the streets for three days, and the rabble "gathering the filth from out the common ways to hurl upon her head." Something is certainly due to decent appearance in the character, and allowance may be justly made for the stage selecting and requiring the least disgusting modes of exhibiting real life. Perhaps a dark coloured dress of flowing picturesque drapery might come nearer to a compromise between reality and what an audience would bear. +"Abundance of waters cover thee." Job, XXII. II. See before p. 113. Note*. "Take me out of the mire, that I sink not: O let me be de"livered from them that hate me, and out of the deep waters. "Let not the water flood drown me, neither let the deep swallow ་་ me up." Psalm LXIX. 15, 16. Or bid his dreadful rod of vengeance, stay? And lay thee down in death. 'The hireling thus And malice, then, grow weary, and forsake me? And loiter far behind. Alas! I faint, My spirits fail at once -This is the door Of my Alicia-Blessed opportunity! I'll steal a little succour from her goodness, Is your lady, [She knocks at the door. Enter a SERVANT. My gentle friend, at home? Oh! bring me to her. Serv. Hold, mistress, whither would you?" J. Sho. Do you not know me? [Going in. [Putting her back. Serv. I know you well, and know my orders, too.. You must not enter here. J. Sho. Tell my Alicia, 'Tis I would see her. Serv. She is ill at ease,+ And will admit no visitor.. J. Sho. But, tell her 'Tis I, her friend, the partner of her heart, Wait at the door, and beg * "Turn from him that he may rest, till he shall accomplish as Job, XIV. 6. an hireling bis day.” + I am very ill at ease, Othello, A. III. S.-III |