Flor. Your Destiny divert, And give my Heart those Wounds design’d for yours. —If you advance, I’ll give the deadly Blow.
King. Hold!—I command thee hold thy impious Hand, My Heart dwells there, and if you strike—I die.
Enter Queen, Alonzo, and Elvira.
Qu. Florella! arm’d against the King? [Snatches the Dagger and stabs her: the King rises. Oh Traitress!
King. Hold, hold, inhuman Murdress; What hast thou done, most barbarous of thy Sex! [Takes Flor. in his Arms.
Qu. Destroy’d thy Murdress,—and my too fair Rival. [Aside.
King. My Murdress!—what Devil did inspire thee
With Thoughts so black and sinful? cou’d this fair Saint
Be guilty of a Murder?—No, no, too cruel Mother,
With her Eyes, her charming lovely Eyes,
She might have kill’d, and her too virtuous Cruelty.
—Oh my Florella! Sacred lovely Creature!
Flor. My Death was kind, since it prevented yours,
And by that Hand, which sav’d mine from a Guilt.
[Points to the Queen.
—That Dagger I receiv’d of Abdelazer,
To stab that Heart,—he said, that lov’d me best;
But I design’d to overcome your Passion,
And then to have vanquish’d Abdelazer’s Jealousy:
But finding you too faithful to be happy,
I did resolve to die—and have my wish.
—Farewel—my King—my Soul begins its flight,
—And now—is hovering—in eternal—Night.
[Dies.
King. She’s gone—she’s gone—her sacred Soul is fled To that Divinity, of which it is a part; Too excellent to inhabit Earthly Bodies.
Alon. Oh, Sir, you grieve too much, for one so foul.