Classic Poem

ACT . IV. S CEN . X.

Leucasia with the Potion in a Glass.

Leu. I'm hurri'd still, and yet I know not whither,
But I am hurri'd — — O distracted thoughts!
Eudemus urgeth Poyson, but I love.
Is this a Fathers gift? and to be drank,
Before we go t' our Nuptials, that those Souls
Which should be join'd, may be divorc'd for ever?
'Twas meant for good Misander , but I'l drink it.
I have a thirst that's Loyall. My death will
Make no more alteration, than the adding
Of one neglected Marble to the Number
Of unregarded Sepulchers. His Fate
May draw the Veines of all the Kingdom dry,
And I commit a slaughter in one Person.
Drink then Leucasia ; let it not be said
In after Histories that any ruine
Of a Republick ow'd it self to thee.
So! now I am in health, and out of danger.
No Father now can urge. Ye Pow'rs who look
Upon th' Affections of those Hearts you wound.
How e're I fall, be you Misanders stay:
Wounded by him I cur'd his lawlesse Passions,
And by a better way did slay the Tyrant.
Some Virgin, who shall be so blest, as to
Enjoy his virtues, will perhaps for this
Sprinkle a flower or two upon my grave.
And wish me Rest. No tongue can blast my Name
With just Reproach, when after times shall know,
That I, who when his Love was drossie, wou'd
Have wrought his death, dy'd for him when 'twas good.