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Dryden, John, 1631-1700

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


_Mont_. Excellent man! [_Exeunt_ CORTEZ, &c.
But I, by living, poorly take the way
To injure goodness, which I cannot pay.
_Enter_ ALMERIA.
_Alm_. Ruin and death run armed through every street;
And yet that fate, I seek, I cannot meet:
What guards misfortunes are and misery!
Death, that strikes all, yet seems afraid of me.
_Mont_. Almeria here! Oh turn away your face!
Must you be witness too of my disgrace?
_Alm_. I am not that Almeria whom you knew,
But want that pity I denied to you:
Your conqueror, alas, has vanquished me;
But he refuses his own victory:
While all are captives in your conquered state,
I find a wretched freedom in his hate.
_Mont_. Couldst thou thy love on one who scorned thee lose?
He saw not with my eyes, who could refuse:
Him, who could prove so much unkind to thee,
I ne'er will suffer to be kind to me.
_Alm_. I am content in death to share your fate;
And die for him I love, with him I hate.
_Mont_. What shall I do in this perplexing strait!
My tortured limbs refuse to bear my weight:
[_Endeavouring to walk, not being able_.
I cannot go to death to set me free;
Death must be kind, and come himself to me.
_Alm_. I've thought upon't: I have affairs below,
[ALM. _musing_.
Which I must needs despatch before I go:
Sir, I have found a place where you may be, [_To him_.


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