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Dryden, John, 1631-1700

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


[VASQUEZ _within, Indians against him_.
_Vasq_. Yield, slaves, or die; our swords shall force our way.
[_Within_.
_Ind_. We cannot, though o'er-powered, our trust betray.
[_Within_.
_Cort_. 'Tis Vasquez's voice, he brings me liberty.
_Vasq_. In spite of fate I'll set my general free;
[_Within_.
Now victory for us, the town's our own.
_Alm_. All hopes of safety and of love are gone:
As when some dreadful thunder-clap is nigh,
The winged fire shoots swiftly through the sky,
Strikes and consumes, ere scarce it does appear,
And by the sudden ill prevents the fear:
Such is my state in this amazing woe,
It leaves no power to think, much less to do.
--But shall my rival live, shall she enjoy
That love in peace, I laboured to destroy? [_Aside_.
_Cort_. Her looks grow black as a tempestuous wind;
Some raging thoughts are rolling in her mind.
_Alm_. Rival, I must your jealousy remove,
You shall, hereafter, be at rest for love.
_Cyd_. Now you are kind.
_Alm_.--He whom you love is true:
But he shall never be possest by you.
[_Draws her dagger, and runs towards her_.
_Cort_. Hold, hold, ah barbarous woman! fly, oh fly!
_Cyd_. Ah pity, pity, is no succour nigh!
_Cort_. Run, run behind me, there you may be sure,
While I have life, I will your life secure.


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