Page:A Series of Plays on the Passions Volume 3.pdf/116

dagger from under his clothes, stabs himself)

Rud. Now, take your will of me, and drag my corse
Thro' mire and dust; your shameless fury now
Can do me no disgrace.

Urston. (advancing.)
Rash, daring, thoughtless wretch! dost thou so close
A wicked life in hardy desperation?

Rud. Priest, spare thy words: I add not to my sins
That of presumption, in pretending now
To offer up to Heaven the forced repentance
Of some short moments for a life of crimes.

Urst. My son, thou dost mistake me: let thy heart
Confession make———

Glot. (interrupting Urst.) Yes, dog! Confession make
Of what thou'st done with Orra; else I'll spurn thee,
And cast thy hateful carcase to the kites.

Hugh. (pulling back Glot. as he is going to spurn Rud. with his foot, who is now fallen upon the ground.)

Nay, nay, forbear; such outrage is unmanly.

(Eleanora, who with Alice had retired from the shocking sight of Rudigere, now comes forward to him.)

El. Oh, Rudigere! thou art a dying man,
And we will speak to thee without upbraiding.
Confess, I do entreat thee, ere thou goest