As vestal truth; was resolutely yours,

Beyond the power of aught on earth to shake it. Osm. Perfidious woman! die!--[Shortening his sword, he plunges it into her breast.] and to

the grave

Attend a husband, yet but half avenged!

Tan. Oh, horror! horror! execrable villain! Osm. And, tyrant! thou!—thou shalt not o'er my tomb

Exult-Tis well—'Tis great!—I die content!—

[Dies.

Enter RODOLPHO and ATTENDANTS. Tan. [Throwing himself down by SIGISMUNDA.] Quick! here! bring aid!—All in Palermo bring Whose skill can save her !—Ah, that gentle bosom Pours fast the streams of life.

Sig. All aid is vain,

1 feel the powerful hand of death upon me-
But, oh! it sheds a sweetness through my fate,
That I am thine again; and, without blame,
May in my Tancred's arms resign my soul!

Tan. Oh death is in that voice! so gently mild,
So sadly sweet, as mixes even with mine
The tears of hovering angels !-Mine again!-
And is it thus the cruel Fates have join'd us?
Are these the horrid nuptials they prepare
For love like ours?-

Yes, death shall soon unite us.

Sig. Live, live, my Tancred!-Let my

fice

To expiate all that may have been amiss.
May it appease the Fates, avert their fury
From thy propitious reign!

Enter SIFFRedi.

death suf

My father!

-Oh, how shall I lift my eyes

To thee, my sinking father!

F

Sig. Where am I?

A fearful darkness closes all around

Oh, my dear father, bow'd beneath the weight
Of age and grief-the victim even of virtue,
Receive my last adieu !-Where art thou, Tancred?
Give me thy hand-But ah! it cannot save me
From the dire king of terrors, whose cold power
Creeps o'er my heart- -Oh!

Tan. How these pangs distract me!

Oh, lift thy gracious eyes:-Thou leavest me then! Thou leavest me, Sigismunda!

Sig. Oh,

-I die

Eternal mercy take my trembling soul!

Oh, 'tis the only sting of death to part

From those we love-from thee-farewell, my Tan

cred!

Tan. Thus, then!

[Dies.

[Flying to his sword, is held by RODOLPHO. Rod. Hold! hold! my lord!-Have you forgot Your Sigismunda's last request already?

Tan. Off! set me free! Think not to bind me

down,

With barbarous friendship, to the rack of life!
What hand can shut the thousand thousand gates
Which death still opens to the woes of mortals ?
Off, traitors, off! or my distracted soul

Will burst indignant from this gaol of nature,
To where she beckons yonder-No, mild seraph,
Point not to life—I cannot linger here,
Cut off from thee, the miserable pity,

The scorn of human kind! -A trampled king!
Oh, shame! Oh, agony! Oh, the fell stings
Of late, of vain repentance !----Ha, my brain
Is all on fire! a wild abyss of thought!

Th' infernal world discloses! See! Behold him!
Lo! with fierce smiles. he shakes the bloody steel,

And mocks my feeble tears.-Hence, quickly hence!
Spurn his vile carcass! give it to the dogs!
Expose it to the winds and screaming ravens !
Ah! impotence of rage!

Rod. Preserve him, Heaven!

Tan. What am I? Where?

Sad, silent, all?-The forms of dumb despair,
Around some mournful tomb-What do I see?
This soft abode of innocence and love

Turn'd to the house of death! a place of horror!
Ah, that poor corse! pale! pale! deform'd with
murder!

Is that my Sigismunda? [Throws himself down by her.

THE END.

LONDON:

PRINTED BY THOMAS DAVISON, WHITEFRIARS.