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A M P H 1 T R Y 0 N. 63
I Yes ’tis the hufband is the guilty wretch:
[His infolence forgot the fweets of love,
: And, deeming them his due, defpis’d the feaft*
Not fo the familh’d lover could forget:
He knew he had been there, and had been bleft,
[ (With all that hope can \vi(h, or fenfe can bear.
I Ale. Hulband, and lover, both alike I hate.
And I confefs I have deferv’d that hate :
{Kneeling.
Too charming fair, I kneel for your forgivenels:
I beg by thofe fair eyes,
( Which gave me wounds, that time can never
cure;
iReceive my forrows, and rellore my joys.
AU. Unkind, and cruel! I can fpeak no more.
"Jup. O give it vent Alcmena, give it vent -t
I merit your reproach, I would be curs’d:
"Let your tongue curfe me, while your heart for¬
gives.
I Ale. Can I forget fuch ufage !
{ Jup. Can you hate me ?
Ale. I’ll do my bed: for fure I ought to hate
you.
Jup, That word was only hatch’d upon your
tongue,
; It came not from yoiir heart. But try again,
| And if,, once more, you can but fay, I hate you,
LMy fword (hall do you juflice.
Ale, Then, I hate you.
i Jup. Then you pronounce the fentence of my
death i
Ale. I hate you much; but yet I love you
more.
Jup. To prove that love, then fay, that you
forgive me :
For there remains but this alternative:
I Kefolve to pardon, or to punifli me.
F a Ak..