But in thy brest if eny spark remaine Of thy dere love. If ever yet I coulde So moche of thee deserve, or at the least If with my last desire I may obtaine This at thy handes, geve me this one request And let me not spend my last breath in vaine. My life desire I not, which neither is In thee to geve nor in my self to save, Althoughe I wolde. Nor yet I aske not this As mercye for myne Erle in ought to crave, Whom I to well do knowe howe thou hast slayen. No, no, father, thy hard and cruell wronge With pacience as I may I will sustaine In woefull life which now shall not be longe. But this one suite, father, if unto me Thou graunt, though I cannot the same reacquite Th'immortall goddes shall render unto thee Thy due reward and largely guerdon it, That sins it pleased thee not thus secretly I might enjoy my love, his corps and myne May nathelesse together graved be And in one tombe our bodies both to shrine With which this small request eke do I praie That on the same graven in brasse thou place This woefull epitaphe which I shall saye, That all lovers may rue this mornefull case; Loe here within one tombe where harbor twaine Gismonda Quene and Countie Pallurine! She loved him, he for her love was slayen, For whoes revenge eke lyes she here in shrine. [GISMONDA _dieth_ TANCRED. O me alas, nowe do the cruell paines Of cursed death my dere daughter bereave. Alas whie bide I here? the sight constraines Me woefull man this woefull place to leaue. SCENE III. TANCRED _cometh out of_ GISMOND'S _Chamber_.