Britain ... - Blue-Lite

404 THE VARANGIAN. [Act V.
Of disappointed hopes, of malice, rage,
And deep remorse, which, its drop by drop, dews
Of poison sheds cold on the withered heart,
Remorse for thy dark treachery to thy lord,
Whose faithful love deserved a nobler fate.
He is a fool, in my best j udgment, madam,
Who knows a woman plays her husband false,
Yet takes her for a wife.
JUDITH.
Devil incarnate !
Blackest of all the throng that darken hell !
True to thy fiend-craft, thou didst tempt me first,
Betray, and then accuse. Hence from my sight !
Go wed ; and be thy bridal hour accursed !
May thy frail wife betray thee to a slave,
Her children be deformed and hideous fools,
And thou, base wittol, think them all thine own,
Till grinning Infamy unveil thine eyes,
And hoot thee into madness ! On thy days
Sorrow of sorrows fall ! and when thou seek^st
The balmy hour of rest, the night-hag brood
In horrors on thy bosom ;
all thy hopes
Perish for aye, and in thy dismal age
Palsy and plague, despair, and want, and hunger,
Fasten like furies on thee ; friendless die.
Like a base dog unwept ! and may thy soul
Meet the reward of perjury, where the damned
Dwell in unquenched fire !
OSMOND.
The saints assoil me from thy maledictions.
So much for love ! How passions shift and change
Like clouds that wait upon the evening sun !
Now brightening earth and heaven, and now a mass
[Eait.