Page:A Series of Plays on the Passions Volume 1.pdf/409

Ay, and how changed too those matted locks!
 
Jer. Merciful heaven! his hair is grisly grown,
Chang'd to white age, what was, but two days since,
Black as the raven's plume. How may this be?

Bern. Such change, from violent conflict of the mind,
Will sometimes come.

Jer.Alas, alas! most wretched!
Thou wert too good to do a cruel deed,
And so it kill'd thee. Thou hast suffer'd for it.
God rest thy soul! I needs must touch thy hand,
And bid thee long farewell.
(Laying his hand on De Monfort.)

Bern. Draw back, draw back! see where the lady comes.

Enter Jane De Monfort. Freberg, who has been for sometime retired by himself to the bottom of the stage, now steps forward to lead her in, but checks himself on seeing the fixed sorrow of her countenance, and draws back respectfully. Jane advances to the table, and looks attentively at the covered bodies. Manuel points out the body of De Monfort, and she gives a gentle inclination of the head, to signify that she understands him. She then bends tenderly over it, without speaking.

Man. (To Jane, as she raises her head.) Oh, madam! my good lord.