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Dryden, John, 1631-1700

"The works of John Dryden, $c now first collected in eighteen volumes. $p Volume 02"

--From innocence.
_Alm_. From innocence? let that then take thy part.
Still are thy looks assured--have at thy heart!
[_Holds up the dagger_.
I cannot kill thee; sure thou bear'st some charm,
[_Goes back_.
Or some divinity holds back my arm.
Why do I thus delay to make him bleed?
[_Aside_.
Can I want courage for so brave a deed?
I've shook it off; my soul is free from fear.
[_Comes again_.
And I can now strike any where--but here:
His scorn of death, how strangely does it move!
A mind so haughty who could chuse but love!
[_Goes off_.
Plead not a charm, or any god's command,
Alas, it is thy heart that holds thy hand:
In spite of me I love, and see, too late,
My mother's pride must find my mother's fate.
--Thy country's foe, thy brother's murderer,--
For shame, Almeria, such mad thoughts forbear:
It w'onnot be,--if I once more come on,
[_Coming on again_.
I shall mistake the breast, and pierce my own.
[_Comes with her dagger down_.
_Cort_. Does your revenge maliciously forbear
To give me death, 'till 'tis prepared by fear?
If you delay for that, forbear or strike,
Foreseen and sudden death are both alike.
_Alm_. To show my love would but increase his pride:
They have most power, who most their passions hide.
[_Aside_.


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