SCENE III.
TANCRED cometh out of GISMOND'S Chamber.
TANCRED. O dolorous happe, ruthefull and all of woe
Alas I carefull wretche what resteth me?
Shall I now live that with these eyes did soe
Beholde my daughter die? what, shall I see
Her death before my face that was my lyfe
And I to lyve that was her lyves decay?
Shall not this hand reache to this hart the knife
That maye bereve bothe sight and life away,
And in the shadowes darke to seke her ghoste
And wander there with her? shall not, alas,
This spedy death be wrought, sithe I have lost
My dearest ioy of all? what, shall I passe
My later dayes in paine, and spende myne age
In teres and plaint! shall I now leade my life
All solitarie as doeth bird in cage,
And fede my woefull yeres with waillfull grefe?
No, no, so will not I my dayes prolonge
To seke to live one houre sith she is gone:
This brest so can not bende to suche a wronge,
That she shold dye and I to live alone.
No, this will I: she shall have her request
And in most royall sorte her funerall
Will I performe. Within one tombe shall rest
Her earle and she, her epitaph withall
Graved thereon shal be. This will I doe
And when these eyes some aged teres have shed
The tomb my self then will I crepe into
And with my blood all bayne their bodies dead.
This heart there will I perce, and reve this brest
The irksome life, and wreke my wrathful ire
Upon my self. She shall have her request,
And I by death will purchace my desyre.