Ros.

Pray retire. As scanty water feeds devouring flamesYour presence will but heat us more.

Coun. As ye are men, forbear! have ye no pity? Dur. Thanks to your kind example, lady, none. Ros. Pity? Come on, sir, it but wounds her pride, That we should die of ought but broken hearts. Coun. Oh heavens! can nothing move you? Dur. One thing—

Coun. Name it!

Ros. That on this spot you now at once declare Which of us is more worthy of your love.

Dur. That is not all, fair lady; you must swear, E'er sunset to become the bride of him

For whom your heart pronounces.

Coun. Never!

Ros. Then by all things most sacred, this spot shall be

Coun. Oh stop, for mercy!
Dur. She trifles still; come on, sir!
Coun. Yet for a moment hear me, ye
If, to prevent the flow of human blood,

hard men!

I teach my lips th' involuntary tale ;
Nay more, if I consent to be a bride,
Lest one or both of you become a corse;
If I do this, you in your turn must swear,
No ling'ring grudge shall in his bosom live,
Whom from a cruel bondage I set free,
Against his chosen rival.

Ros. This, by my sword,

Which nothing else can sheath, I swear!

Coun. And you, sir?

Dur. I swear. (They sheath their swords.)

Coun. Let me intreat you yet forego your purpose. (They half draw their swords.)

Well-if I must. --Oh what a task is mine,

When that which pleases most, will most offend,

And, like a double-breathing wind, I bring

Mildew and health at once!

Dur.

Ros. We're on the rack!

Coun.

To the point, lady!

Both valiant men you are,

And honourable woers-both of minds

So richly gifted with rare qualities,

That, were my eye now searching for a friend,
I would tell both how equally I priz'd you,
Weighing your worth in the strict scales of justice;
But love is most fantastical, and tries

By an uneven balance of its own,

The qualities of men—a word, a look,

Will turn the trembling beam.

Then let my choice Speak woman's folly, and not your deserts.

I do esteem you both, yea, both as men
Deep in my heart I honour.-But my love,
Since you will wring the foolish secret from me,
It is Rosano's. (Gives him her hand.) Noble gentle-

man!

(To DURAZZO.)

Rejoice that you have lost a worthless prize,

And so escaped repentance.-Come, Rosano.

Ros. Your hand, sir! in this firm and faithful

grasp

Of friendship, be our enmities forgot

Dur. Buried for ever, sir!

Ros.

And when you woo

Another lady, may your wishes prosper

As mine do now.

Dur. I thank ye, sir, I thank you!
Coun.

Her heart untenanted, and her fair self

As bountiful to your aspiring hopes,

May you find

As I have been ungracious.-Come, Rosano!

[Exeunt COUNTESS and ROSANO.

DURAZZO, solus.

A hopeful end to a long three years wooing,
Now to be turn'd adrift, and for a man
Whose love was but of yesterday.-No matter,
He is a thriving wooer, and has learnt
The briefest mode of tickling ladies fancies.
How her full eye gaz'd on him!

With what a smother'd gust she press'd his hand!
Which as she strove to hide, the crimson blood
Rush'd to her cheek, and her wild bosom heav'd -
Not all the language that e'er fell from lips
Could make confession half so eloquent.
I see them still, he presses her white hand,
Steals like a curling tendril round her waist,
Hangs o'er her panting bosom, meets her lip,
He leads her to the altar, the cursed priest
Has join'd their hands for ever.

And now-Damnation! that shall never be :
No, never, never, never!-I have sworn
Against my friend to feed no private grudge,
Yet kindness to the lady I may bear,
Nor spot my soul with perjury-To-night,
Wedded to-night? My ship lies in the harbour,
And in the fluttering sails the wind sings fair-
Look to thy prize, Rosano! She has struck

To thee, but e'er thou bring'st her to the port, Tempests may rise, and roaring seas o'erwhelm thee.

Scene 4th.-BALTHAZAR'S House.

BALTHAZAR and LEAH his Daughter.

[Exit.

Bal. Poh, poh! I tell you, you're a silly girl, you must think no more of him.

Leah. But I cannot help thinking of him, sir. Bal. Marry a Christian? You must not dream of such a thing! a beggarly fisherman!

Leah. But I can't dream of any thing else.

Bal. Yesh, but dreams you know go by contraries. Leah. Well, I'm glad of that, for I dreamt last night that you would never give your consent.

Bal. Then you dreamt true, for I will never give my consent. Don't you know he's a Christian. Leah. What then, sir? Love is of all religions.

AIR 2d.*

I.

I care not if Christian or Jew,

He has faith in the vow which I swore,
And whilst love in his bosom beats true,
I'll believe in the man I adore.

*This song was omitted in the representation.