+De F.+ I should mock heaven's justice, to let 'em dream Their souls away in such a calm: we'll startle Them into horror of their sin, and then Let 'em see the vengeance they deserve. +Cle.+ Ye chaster powers, to whom I and my virginity Groan, may every drop breathe incense to your justice? Whilst thus I break their springs open. [_Stabs +Claudilla+._ +Claud.+ O Dessandro! O, whose hand's that? +Cle.+ Cleara's, Cleara's! carry that name in thy last breath Down to the shades of lust and perjury. +De F.+ So quick and brave, Cleara? +Claud.+ O! [_Expirat._ +Des.+ Cleara! madam, madam! your sleeps are troubled---- Who's there? De Flame! +De F.+ Raise not thy voice an accent: if thou dost, by my eternal hopes and soul! this strikes it back unto thy heart. See'st thou revenge sit pale upon the point? 'Tis steeled with virgin's curses, and shall fly like lightning through thy blood; and it is a justice thy vast pride hath lost thee to. +Des.+ O, what hast thou done? A deed that flinty Scythians and curl'd Ethiops Would hide their eyes from. +De F.+ Our revenge shall wear a glorious title. Know'st Thou that injur'd face? It is Cleara's, injur'd Cleara's. +Des.+ Cleara! +De F.+ What see'st thou on that brow? +Des.+ Murder! +De F.+ Horror and guilt unto thy soul. +Des.+ I'll not be tamely butcher'd, coward. Without there! Help, help, help! +De F.+ Whirlwinds and earthquakes cannot do it. Think on thy sin. +Cle.+ Thy perjury. +De F.+ Thy lust. [_+Cleara+ stabs at him._ +Des.+ Cleara! O, thou hast a skilful hand in Murder. Help, help! murder! +De F.+ So falls a wretched statue from its haughty station, when Fate would make it ominous and fright a state. What a thick cloud steams from his tainted blood! The air shrinks back, and with dull wings fans it from heaven. _Enter +De Loome+, +La Gitterne+, +Torguina+, &c._ +Tor.+ Murder, murder! 'twas his voice. +De L.+ It was his voice. +Tor.+ The key? +La G.+ Gone! +Tor.+ Cut from my side! I'm betray'd! +De L.+ Look, search the room: where's the stranger? +La G.+ The door is fast. [_Knocks._ +De F.+ You may come in: make up your wonder there. [_Opens the door._ +Tor.+ My lady murder'd! +De L.+ You have astonish'd heaven. +Tor.+ And pull'd eternal curses on your head. +De F.+ They'll fall like brittle shafts upon my shield. +Cle.+ Unjust Dessandro! yet on thy lip I'll Tender my last vows, that the world may tell I loved thee dead--and this--and this---- [_Kisses him, then stabs herself._ +De F.+ Hold, hold that cruel hand! Cleara! sister! +De L.+ Cleara! This is a horrid scene, my lord.