_Essex._ Live, oh, live! Thou noblest, bravest, best of men and friends! Whilst life is worth thy wish--till time and thou Agree to part, and nature send thee to me! Thou generous soul, farewell!----Live, and be happy! And, oh! may life make largely up to thee Whatever blessing fate has thus cut off, From thy departing friend! _Lieut._ My lord, my warrant Strictly forbids to grant a moment's time. _South._ Oh, must we part for ever? Cruel fortune! Wilt thou then tear him hence?--Severe divorce! Let me cling round thy sacred person still,-- Still clasp thee to my bosom close, and keep Stern Fate at distance. _Essex._ Oh, my friend! we'll meet Again, where virtue finds a just reward! Where factious malice never more can reach us! I need not bid thee guard my fame from wrongs: And, oh! a dearer treasure to thy care I trust, than either life or fame--my wife! Oh, she will want a friend! Then take her to thy care--do thou pour balm On her deep-wounded spirit, and let her find My tender helps in thee!--I must be gone, My ever faithful, and my gallant friend! I pr'ythee, leave this woman's work.--Farewell! Take this last, dear embrace--Farewell for ever! _South._ My bursting breast! I fain would speak, but words Are poor--Farewell!-- But we shall meet again--embrace in one Eternal band, which never shall be loosed. [_Exit._ _Essex._ To death's concluding stroke, lead on, Lieutenant.-- My wife!--Now reason, fortitude, support me! For now, indeed, comes on my sorest trial. _Enter COUNTESS of RUTLAND._ Oh, thou last, dear reserve of fortune's malice! For fate can add no more,-- Oh, com'st thou now to arrest my parting soul, And force it back to life? _Rut._ Thou sole delight-- Thou only joy which life could ever give, Or death deprive me of--my wedded lord! I come, with thee, determined to endure The utmost rigour of our angry stars! To join thee, fearless, in the grasp of death, And seek some dwelling in a world beyond it! _Essex._ Too much, thou partner of this dismal hour, Thy gen'rous soul would prompt thee to endure! Nor can thy tender, trembling, heart sustain it. Long years of bliss remain in store for thee; And smiling time his treasures shall unfold To bribe thy stay! _Rut._ Thou cruel comforter! Alas! what's life--what's hated life to me? Alas, this universe, this goodly frame, Shall all as one continued curse appear, And every object blast, when thou art gone. _Essex._ Oh, strain not thus the little strength I've left, The weak support that holds up life! to bear A few short moments more, its weight of woe, Its loss of thee! Oh, turn away those eyes! Nor with that look melt down my fix'd resolve! And yet a little longer let me gaze On that loved form! Alas! I feel my sight Grows dim, and reason from her throne retires: For pity's sake, let go my breaking heart, And leave me to my fate!