Whose feeble arm, unstung by death, can cope
With thine no more?

Kay. Oh, was it all too little,

Al! thou hast done, but when one g'eam of hope
To tear my countess from the tyrant's arms
Shed the last beam of comfort on my soul,
That thou must also blot and trample down!
O stain of manhood! where are now thy ruffians,
Thy lurking murderers? But guard thee, villain.
Guise. On fame, report it, how the mighty soul
Of noble Raymond, raging with the lust
Of grovel ng vengeance, gave his sword to mangle
The corse already shivering in the arms

Of swift approaching death. Oh yes, bold hero,
Yes; s'ain thy honour with the unmanly rage
Of giving wound on wound when faint and dying
Thy foe resists no more.

Ray. I thank thee caitiff,

For warning me. I would not stain my sword
To rob the only of a dying moment.

Thy cowardice has purchas'd thee some minutes
Of longer gasping-O, thou art so bloated
With basest guilt, I cannot bear to view thee.
My happiness, which never was the fruit
Of other's wue, spread wide its blooming honours
In a kind soil, when thou, a brutal plunderer,
Hast thrown its fairest blossoms in the dust--
My life blood fails; thy lurking ruffian's swords
Have found the mortal part: yet, thanks to Heaven,
Thy purpose shall be blighted.

Guise. And art thou wounded?

Ye powers of death assist me! [Drawing his sword. Ray. Villain! [They fight, Guise falls.

There lie, detested coward!

Cold in my bosom smarts the murdering sword

That kill'd my last fond hope.

Guise. Oh this is terrible!

He that receives a wrong-he, he is happy,
Compar'd to him who gave it!

My crimes, oh horrible, and death's hand on me!

Enter BRAMVILLE, RONSARD and servants, with EEMOINE veiled.

Ron. Still not in vain, my lord, is our attempt. [To Raymond. We rescued her from Guise's ruffian bands: But let us haste from hence. Ah Heaven, you bleed. [Bramville and Ronsard su port Raymond. Ray. Death gently beckons me: Oh speed my friends

To Sicily, and place my rescu'd spouse

[Femoine drops the veil. Heavens, is it thee! O now my heart is vanquish'd!

My last fond wish, my last fond hope destroy'd! [Sinking down, Bramville and Ronsard support

him.

rour

Guise. O cursed woman, see the bitter fruits [To Eemoine. Of thy intrigues, and curst advice-Some demon drags me hence, dark settling hor[Dies. Eem. Dreadful, O dreadful, all my hopes are blasted! [Looking at Guise. O injur'd Raymond, trembling I approach thee: Much-injur'd Raymond, thy countess overlov'd thee; 'T was I attempted to seduce her virtue, Which mid he darkness of these plotful hours Shone with redoubled lustre; loud and awfully Thy wrongs cry vengeance; and behold their victim

Kneeling before thee. Mark me, great thy wrongs, And this their fruits-

[Stabs herself, the dagger snatched from her. Yet life seems slow to fly.

Oh, while it lingers bear me to the countess :
Pursue and snatch her from the slaves of Guise.
Yet let me ask forgiveness.

Ray. Bramville, thy friendly arms
Were the kind shelter of my infant years.
Yet, yet, my friends, by all your dearest cares,
Oh soothe my ghost, save my Erminia.
What pleasing indolence-O death, I come!

Bram. Peace to thy noble soul!
Oh gentleness,

[Dies.

That fortune's giddy height could never change!
Oh nobleness of every gallant virtue,
Is this the best acquittance the base world
Could give to thee?

Enter the COUNTESS, looking at EEMOINE.
Coun. Hast thou again betray'd me! if my ser-
Had not now rescued me--

[vants

My evil angel, why thus glar'st thou at me!
Eem. The treacherous flow of spirits
That gave the blow has left me: deep, oh deep,
[Sinking down.
And deeper still I sink. Oh black'ning horrours,
Is there no help?-Alas, no g'eam of hope!
How dreadful is your silence! Mercy Heaven,
Injur'd Erminia, canst thou forgive me?
Thy husband lov'd thee, ever fondly lov'd thee.
Hence, hence, ye hissing adders-Ah, it flashes!
Now, now 't is darkness

[Dies Erm. My husband did she say! O yes, he lov'd me. Ha, what[Turning to Raymond. -My husband murder'd! [Kneeling down by himArise, my noble Raymond, rise, And let us fly

a pause.

Bram. Assume the sacred veil,
The holy cloister's walls shall then protect you,
And melancholy peace may shed her balm
On life's cold evening―——

Erm. Take my child away

Oh Heaven, how dreadful these upbraiding looks
From my own infant! Ask me not, I know not
Who slew thy father--Gracious Heaven!
No child is here; but here my murder'd husband!
[Faints.

Bram. Ha!--what resounding tumult!
Lord Adm. Oh, my lord,

'T is treason's triumph o'er our country's fall.
Few moments since I saw the warlike Bourbon

Grasping the victory, ride through the field,
His eye-balls fir'd with joy.
Bram. Alas the king!

A prisoner!

Enter the KING, guarded by Spanish soldiers. King. Off-your base bands, you slavesBram. Amidst thy bitter feelings for thyself, Look here, fallen king

[Pointing to the Countess and Raymond. Low lies thy faithfullest, Thy bravest peer-These are the horrid triumphs Of thy lewd revels!

King. These--Oh Heaven, couldst thou Restore me yesterday!