Oh ! What Condition is't can equal mine ? Much less exceed it ; to be oblig 'd to Break my Vow , to part from my Palante ; Forc 'd to the Arms of a mishapen Monster , Whom Nature made to vex the whole Creation . Nor is his crooked Body more deform 'd Than is his Soul , Ambition is his God ; He seeks no Heav'n but Interest ; nor knows he How to value ought but Gold . Oh ! my dearest Brother , had'st thou but liv 'd I had been truly happy , but now am Doubly miserable , in losing thee and my Palante . Thy Courage gives fresh Life and Liberty , To poor Lucasia 's tired restless Soul , Such Pow'r have chearful Friends t'ease our Sorrows . Oh ! my Lavinia , may thy Counsel prove Prophetic , I 'm going now , in this Disguise , to meet my Dear Palante ; may no malignant Star Interpose to cross our mutual Wishes . May thy Designs successful prove , To fix thee ever in Francisco 's Arms . ‘ Tis my Palante 's Voice . I must admire him that loves Palante ; Friendship 's a noble Name , ‘ tis Love refin 'd ; ‘ Tis something more than Love , ‘ tis what I wou 'd Shew to my Palante . I know not , but I long to quit this Place , My Thoughts seem to divine of Treachery , But whence I know not ; no Creature 's conscious To our meeting here but Laura ; I have always Found her honest , and yet I would she did not know it . My Sadness does proceed from Fear for thee , Take your Friend 's Counsel , let us fly this Place . Hark ! What Noise is that ? ha me , we 're lost . Oh ! we are undone , wicked , wicked Laura . Yet do but hear me , Father . For you my Mother wou 'd have done as much : If Need had so required ; Think not that my Mind e'er stray 'd from Virtue ; Oh ! listen to the Voice of my Prayer , and Crown It with rich Mercy . Oh , stay blood-thirsty Men , stay and hear me But a Word , and that shall be my final Resolution . If thou , my cruel Father wilt not hear , But dost proceed to spill the Blood of him In whom my Life subsists , remember , Sir , I am your Daughter , once you did love me ; Oh ! tell me then , what Fault can be so great To make a Father murderer of his Child ? For so you are in taking his dear Life ; Do not think that I will stay behind him . No , whilst there 's Asps , and Knives , and burning Coals ; No Roman Dame 's Example shall outgo My Love . I too alike am guilty ; O let me share the Punishment with them , Thou shalt not go alone , take me with thee ; Here are my willing Hands , quick bind ‘ em fast , What to die ? Oh , never ! I 'll clasp him like the last Remains of Life . Where 's my Palante , gone to death ? Oh Heav'n ! Then shall I be mad , indeed ? what are you , Officers of Justice ! I 'm ready , Sir . Attend me ! alas , I need no Attendance . All Service comes too late to miserable me ; My Fortune 's desperate grown . Oh ! ‘ tis most prodigious ; Cou 'd I lose Pity in a Father 's Breast , And find it in a Stranger 's ? I shall not Live to thank you , Sir , but my best Prayers go With you . Surely this poor Man is nobly bred , howe'er His Habit speaks him . Who shall dare to make that Supplication ? My Father and the Count of Pirro rules ; Yet I wou 'd venture if I knew which Way . A thousand Blessings on you for your Care , Yes , I will go , grant it ye Powers above ; If you had e'er regard to injur 'd Love : Teach me such Words as may his Pity move ; Let it pierce deep into his stony Heart , In all my Sufferings make him feel a Part . Oh make him feel the Pangs of sharp Despair , That he may know what wretched Lovers bear : My Sighs and Tears shall with Intreaties join , That he would save Palante 's Life , or sentence mine : But if relentless to my Prayers he be , And he must fall , then welcome Destiny . Fate does our Lives so close together twine , Who cuts the Thread of his unravels mine . SCENE the Governor 's House . Pardon me , Sir , for pressing thus rudely On your Privacy , I know ‘ tis boldness . But I hope the Hour 's propitious to me , Finding you alone , and free from Business , I promise myself I shall be heard with Patience . Thus low I beg for poor Palante 's Life . Oh , Sir . If ever Pity touch 'd your gen'rous Breast , If ever Virgin 's Tears had Power to move , Or if you ever lov 'd and felt the Pangs That other Lovers do , pity , great Sir , Pity and pardon two unhappy Lovers . If Palante dies , I cannot live , for we Have but one Heart , and can have but one Fate . Never till —— The gracious Word of Pardon raises me , There 's Pity in your Eye , oh ! shew it , Sir ! And say that he shall live , ‘ tis but a Word , But oh , as welcome as the Breath of Life , Why will you part two Hearts that Heav'n has join 'd ? He is my Husband , Sir , and I his wedded Wife . You cannot think the Thing I would not do . Speak , Sir , and lay it but in my Power , And even beyond my Power I will attempt . If I were ever thankful unto Heav'n For all that I call mine , my Health and Being , Cou 'd I then be unthankful unto you , For a Gift I value more than those ? Without which all other Blessings will be tasteless . As far as I am capable I will , Tho ’ I can ne'er make ample Satisfaction , All my Services to you are Duty , But to those Pow'rs above that can requite That from their Wasteless Treasure daily heap Rewards more out of Grace than merit on Us Mortals ; To those I 'll pray that they wou 'd give you , Sir , More Blessings than I have Skill to ask . Oh ! name it , Sir , that —— Swift as the Arrow from the Archer 's Hand My trembling Feet may fly to save him , Oh ! you have rais 'd me from the Gulph of Grief To that blest comfortable Region , Hope , My Senses all dance in the Cirque of Joy . My ravish 'd Heart leaps up to hear your Words , And seems as ‘ twou 'd come forth to thank you . Say , how , how shall I save him ? Oh ! unexpected Turn of rigid Fate , Cruel , Sir , far more cruel than my Father . Why did you raise me to a Height of Joy ? To sink me in a Moment down again , In what a sad Dilemma stands my Choice , Either to wed the Man my Soul most loaths , Or see him die for whom alone I live . To break my sacred Vows to Heav'n and him , To save a Life which he would scorn to take On Terms like those , name any Thing but that , You are more just than to enforce my Will , Why should I marry one I cannot love , And sure I am I cannot love Count Pirro , Love him ! no , I shou 'd detest and loath him . The Cause that made him mine , wou 'd hourly add Fresh Matter for my Hate . Oh ! I am miserable . I shou 'd be such if I shou 'd save him thus . Since you have swore not to save him upon Other Terms , I 'll shew a duteous Cruelty And rather follow him in Death than so To buy his Life , no , I despise the Price . Why do I breathe my Woes , or beg for Mercy here ; Or hope to find plain Honesty in Courts ? No , their Ears are always stopp 'd against Justice , Avarice and Pride supplies the Place of Pity . So may just Heav'n when you for Mercy sue , As you have pitied me so pardon you . SCENE Count Gravello 's House . Faithful Irus how shall I reward thee ? Ha ! see where stands Palante and his Friend ! Oh ! lead me Irus , quickly , lead me back , Else I shall grow a Statue at this Sight : Not all the frightful Noise of Chains we 've past , And meagre Looks of Wretches in Despair , Are half so terrible as this . Oh ! Palante ! O ! I had dy 'd e'er seen this fatal Hour ; But this good Man pursu 'd with Care my Steps , And stop 'd my Hand , which else had giv'n the Blow , When first I heard the sad and dreadful News , That thou , Palante , wer't condemn 'd to die . Fly Irus , fly , and bring us instant Word . Oh ! my aking Brain is near Distraction ; For much I fear there is no Help for me . What Comfort 's in this late Discovery found ? Will the Greatness of thy Race protect thee ? Virtue and ev'ry Good was thine before ; Yet the cruel Pow'rs are deaf to all my Prayers : Nor will thy Merit plead with angry Heav'n , To ward the Stroke , and save thy precious Life . Oh Greatness ! thou vain and vap'rish Shew , That , like a Mist , dazzles the Eyes of Men , And as the Fogs destroy the Body 's Health , That poisons deep , and gangrenes in the Soul ; But seldom 's found t ’ assist the virtuous Man . Thou wert —— As dear to these desiring Eyes before , And honour 'd full as much in this poor Heart . Oh ! I cou 'd curse the Separating Cause , And wish Lucasia never had been born . Long Life ; no , rather wish me sudden Death , To rid me of my Cares , and that Way give me Ease . Ha ! I 'm seiz 'd with an unusual Terror , Fear And Horror swim in Shades of Night around , How sad and dreadful are these Prison Walls ! Thy Voice seems hollow too , and Face looks pale . Oh ! my Palante , my Heart —— Throbs , as if the Strings of Life were breaking . Oh ! Heav'n help me . Stand off , and touch me not : No , I will stay with thee . Do not push me from thee , my dear Palante ; For I shall die apace , and go before . Oh ! all ye Maids that now are crown 'd above ; Did any feel , like me , the Wrecks of Love ? By Tempests torn from my dear Husband 's Side , And made a Widow , when I 'm scarce a Bride . SCENE the Governor 's House . I have no Father , nor ever had that I remember , but born and destin 'd for an out-cast Wretch , and curst to ruin a most noble Husband : Oh he was the Pride of the Sicilian Youths , and Glory of the World ; but he is dead , or doom 'd to die , and that 's alike distracting . Proceed , dear Irus . Oh , Irus , Eugenio , Palante , where am I ? Sure such Hours as these give us a Taste of Immortality . Cousin , I wish you Joy , as large a Share as I possess , and Fate itself can give no more .