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(Act 5.)
SUPERSTITION
67

It is our nuptial kiss. They shall not cheat us—
Hark in thine ear, how we will laugh at them.

(Leans her head down on the body, as if whispering.)

Sir R. Alas! poor maniac,

(Isabella who, supported by her father, had been bending over the body in mute despair is now sinking.)

Unk. Daughter—Isabella—
Isab. Father— (Looking up in his face.)
Unk. You will not leave me, Isabella?
Isab. I would remain to comfort you, my father,
But there's a tightness here.—For nineteen years
He was my only stay on earth—my good
My duteous son. Ere I found thee my father
The cord was snapp'd—Forgive me—

(Isabella falls and is received in the arms of Lucy.)

Unk. Bless thee, child—
I will not linger long behind thee.

(Storm subsides.)

Sir R. Sir,
If you're that lady's father, I have here
A pardon for you from the king.
Unk. I thank him;
But it is now too late.—She's gone.—The world
Has nothing left for me—deep in the wilderness,
I'll seek a grave, unknown, unseen by man.—
Walf. How fares your hapless friend?
Alice. Her cold cheek rests
Against his cheek—not colder—
Walf. Place your hand
Upon her heart: is there no beating there?
Alice. There is no beating there—She's dead!
Rave. Dead, dead!—

(Ravensworth, who thro' this scene, had shewn the signs of stern and settled despair, occasionally casting his eyes upon his daughter, or raising them to Heaven, but withdrawing them again in utter hopelessness, now sinks groaning into the arms of Walford. Isabella is on her knees, on the upper side