Page:A Series of Plays on the Passions Volume 3.pdf/338

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306
THE BEACON:

Of that accursed door which gave him entrance.
An hour's sand well hath run, which undisturb'd
They have in converse or endearments spent.
And yet I must forbear!

Bast. They have not told the truth who told you so;
It is not yet so long.

Ul.It is! it is!
I have within these walls, who for my service
More faithfully have watch'd than Bastiani—
Aye, or Terentia either.

Bast.Wrong us not.
Since Ermingard returns by holy vows
So bound, that as a rival to your love,
You may, with honest thoughts of her you love,
No more consider him; all jealousy
Within your noble breast should be extinct.
Then think not to disturb these few short moments
Of unavailing sorrow; that were cruel.

Ul. Thou pitiest others well; I am tormented,
And no one pities me.—That cursed Beacon!
I said in vain this night should be the last:
It was a night too much: the sea had now
Roll'd o'er his lifeless corse; I been at peace.

Bast. For mercy, good my lord! curb such fell thoughts:
They bear no kindred to your better nature.

Ul. My better nature! Mock me not with words;
Who loves like me, no nature hath but one,