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Dryden, John, 1631-1700

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


_Alm_. Blame not an act, which did from love proceed:
I'll thus revenge thee with this fatal blow;
[_Stabs herself_.
Stand fair, and let my heart-blood on thee flow.
_Cyd_. Stay, life, and keep me in the cheerful light!
Death is too black, and dwells in too much night.
Thou leav'st me, life, but love supplies thy part,
And keeps me warm, by lingering in my heart:
Yet dying for him, I thy claim remove;
How dear it costs to conquer in my love!
Now strike: That thought, I hope, will arm my breast.
_Alm_. Ah, with what differing passions am I prest!
_Cyd_. Death, when far off, did terrible appear;
But looks less dreadful as he comes more near.
_Alm_. O rival, I have lost the power to kill;
Strength hath forsook my arm, and rage my will:
I must surmount that love which thou hast shown;
Dying for him is due to me alone.
Thy weakness shall not boast the victory,
Now thou shalt live, and dead I'll conquer thee:
Soldiers, assist me down.
[_Exeunt from above, led by Soldiers, and enter both, led by_ CORTEZ.
_Cort_. Is there no danger then? [_To_ CYDARIA.
_Cyd_. You need not fear
My wound; I cannot die when you are near.
_Cort_. You, for my sake, life to Cydaria give;
[_To_ ALM.
And I could die for you, if you might live.


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