_Aur._ Bold Arrogance! Oh! That he were but here to answer the Affront! Perhaps he may have wrong'd your Family: Debauch'd your Sister; for which you would force him To marry her?----But, I must tell thee, Boy, He's mine already: nor would he forsake me To hold Command o'er all the Universe. _Pla._ Oh! Heaven! must I bear this! _Aur._ Nay, expect more, if he should find you here, 'Tis not your being Brother to his Mistress, That will secure you from his just Revenge. _Pla._ Revenge! Nay, then away with all Disguise, Pity be gone----And in its Room fell Rage Take place, that I may dash that haughty Insolence That dares to treat me thus--Know, Madam, I am his Wife--his lawful wedded Wife. With borrow'd Shape I came to try your Virtue, Which I have found so light that the least Puff Of wanton Love will blast it----Else my Visit Had met a better Welcome--Here with Sword in Hand I'll wait his coming, [_Draws._ And as he enters, pierce thy haughty Breast. I know he loves thee, and therefore 'tis brave Revenge to let him see thy dying Pangs: Thy parting Sighs will rack him worse than Hell. _Aur._ His Wife! Oh! Insolence! In vain you waste your Breath, it moves not me: So much I love him, so much I'm belov'd, That should an Angel from yon Heaven descend, To tell me he's marry'd, I'd not credit him, Kill me if you dare--He will revenge my Death: That pleasing Thought gives Courage to my Soul: To live without him would be Death indeed! No--he'll ne'er leave me for a common Thing, For such I'm sure thou art---- _Pla._ Common! Proud Wretch----by Heaven that Word gives Wings To my Revenge--Vile Creature, die-- [_Stabs her._ _Aur._ Help,--Murder, murder---- _Enter_ Bassino. _Bass._ Ha--That to thy Heart----[_Kills_ Plac.] Wer't thou a Demi-god And durst attempt this Shrine, thus should'st thou fall-- _Pla._ (_Falling._) Oh! _Bassino_! Oh! _Aur._ Oh! hold, my Lord, what has your Rashness done? I only should have dy'd----I'll not upbraid Your Treachery--No, 'tis the Hand of Heaven That guides the Stroke that takes my guilty Life, For being faithless to _Alonzo_. _Bass._ Talk not of Death, my fair, my dear _Aurelia_; That very Sound does harrow up my Soul. But who art thou, whose sacrilegious Hand Durst to profane the Temple of my Love? _Pla._ I am your Wife--Your loving Wife _Placentia_. Oh! pardon this rash Deed; blame jealous Love-- And grace me with a Sigh, that I may die contented. _Bass._ My Wife! and kill'd by me! Under what Load of Miseries I stand! Oh! Horror! Horror! Infinity of Guilt! Hurl now your vengeful Bolts, Almighty Powers, On my devoted Head! Oh! I have wrong'd you both: Deceiv'd you basely: Thus prostrate on the Ground, let me beg Pardon: [_Throws himself on the Ground._ I do not ask it with Design to live.