I ask not life. If I must die, my suit
Is, not to die unblest, like the poor brute.
Richard! thy mother had a heart, and thou
To the cold grave thy jewell'd head must bow."

Enrag'd he heard, yet awed. He strove to feign A pitying tone, and bade her not complain. She heard the altering voice, and from her heart Bursting with sobs, these mournful tones depart.

"I've been a guilty wretch; but not a thought. To injure thee in all my greatness sought. Oh, Gloucester! I have sinn'd against my GodMy husband too. Yes-I deserve the rod. Heaven I have scorn'd-yet not offended thee; Oh then extend that mercy ev'n to me

Which thou wilt need at last. Take, take me hence, Assuage my thirst, and in the cloister's fence

I'll die content, and bless thee as I die;

But let me breathe in peace my final sigh."

Her hold relaxing, Richard was releas'd, And straight exclaim'd,

"Your groans must be your feast,

I have no soul for charitable deeds,

Nor time nor temper to attend your needs.
I have no malice now, but cannot change
My public purpose. Fate must take its range."

He turn❜d to go; the wretched sufferer groan'd, And thus her last complainings faintly moan'd.

66

Still, still unmov'd! hard-hearted tyrant, hear! Not satiate yet with blood! when wilt thou fear? I know I fall the victim to your scheme, That now the friend of morals you may seem. Go, hypocrite! Go, murderer! elate!

I envy not your pomp, I know your fate ;

I would not change my anguish for your crown.
Mercy, dear Saviour!-Pardon

She sank down,

And fell across the pathway-senseless quite,
Till waning night dissolv'd in dewy light;
Then a good friar advancing, saw her form,
And kindly rais'd her. Yet her heart was warm,
Tho' chill'd her face and limbs. He rais'd her head,
And saw 'twas Shore, tho' dying, yet not dead.

"Poor, hapless beauty! can I see thee here In this sad state, and mortal menace fear? No-Nature abrogates oppression's law;

I will assist thee, tho' my pity draw

Man's vengeance on me. And may He who reigns
The friend of sorrowing guilt, accept thy pains
As some atonement for thy errors past,

And take thee, lady, to his heaven at last!"

His arms her tender frame with caution bear, Speechless she lay, yet seem'd to feel his care. Once-and but once - she tried to lift her eyes,

It was to see and thank him ere she dies.

But the poor rayless orbs no sight contain,

Their lids reclos'd. She breathes with greater pain, And frequent effort. O'er her as he goes

The prayers he utters for her last repose,

With fervent charity. A home he found
For the scarce living mourner. There around
The pitying sisters gather. Every art
Anxious they try, new vigour to impart.
Nor are their efforts vain. A feeble ray
Relumes her frame, and keeps her yet in day.

BOOK XV.

RICHARD'S UNHAPPINESS-THE

PERSONAL

RETRIBUTION

WHICH FETTERS HIM FOR HIS FRATERNAL CRIME.

THIS fill'd the measure of obdurate guilt :

Tho' reason had dehorted while he built
With reckless heart his proud ambitious scenes;
Tho' ev'n his nature shudder'd at its means:
Tho' the kind Providence that eyes, unsought,
Our wavering hearts, oft breath'd a nobler thought,
Yet had he spurn'd the multiplied restraints,
And dar'd celestial wrath and human plaints,

To win the blood-stain'd throne. Attain'd the seat,
There, every joy of life he felt retreat;

For now the Lord of nature and of man

The work of retribution soon began.

That He who made creation must, from height Of matchless glory, be to mortal sight

Impervious, unapproachable, obscur'd,

We feel with awe

- and by his grace assur'd,

Content in spirit to his throne to soar,
Th' Omnipotent Mysterious we adore.

But if his nature be sublimely veil'd,
As wondrous must that government be hail'd,
Invisible, yet mighty-ever felt,

Tho' ever trackless—which each moment dealt
Thro' human life, with force resistless speeds;
Yet wears no form unknown but by its deeds.

Of all its ceaseless agencies, most clear, Most certain, tho' least explicable here, Is that mysterious influence on the mind By which it cheers, or shakes, and rules mankind. Emmets of nature! here we swell and stride

As sovereign lords, with independent pride,

And yet our greatness with such weakness fraught. We cannot govern ev'n our trains of thought.

One everlasting law supremely sways:
Completed crime shall know no peaceful days,
As the vile purpose lingers to the act,
The God within dissuades the tempting fact;
He warns, he checks, he actuates to restrain;
His impulse scorn'd, he visits but to pain: