Ungen'rously excites, with careless scorn,
Such baleful passion in a brother's breast,
Whom heav'n commands to love. Low are ye laid:
Still all contention now.—Low are ye laid.
I lov'd you both, and mourn your hapless fall.
Abb. They were your friends, my lord?
Freb. I lov'd them both. How does the Lady Jane?
Abb. She bears misfortune with intrepid soul.
I never saw in woman bow'd with grief
Such moving dignity.
Freb.Ay, still the same.
I've known her long; of worth most excellent;
But, in the day of woe, she ever rose
Upon the mind with added majesty,
As the dark mountain more sublimely tow'rs
Mantled in clouds and storm.
Enter Manuel and Jerome.
Man. (Pointing.) Here, my good Jerome, there's a piteous sight.
Jer. A piteous sight! yet I will look upon him:
I'll see his face in death. Alas, alas!
I've seen him move a noble gentleman;
And when with vexing passion undisturb'd,
He look'd most graciously.
(Lifts up in mistake the cloth from the body of Rezenvelt, and starts back with horrour.)
