rld from these rude Ruins rise. [_Pauses._
Here then I point the Edge, from hence shall flow
[_Pointing his knife to his heart._
The raging crimson Flood, this is the Fountain
Whose swift Day's Stream shall waft me to thy Arms,
Lest Philip's Ghost should injure thy Repose. [_Stabs himself._
I come, I come--Monelia, now I come--
Philip--away--She's mine in spite of Death. [_Dies._

_Enter TENESCO._

TENESCO.

Oh! I'm too late, the fatal Work is done.
Unhappy Princes; this your wretched End;
Your Country's Hopes and your fond Father's Joy;
Are you no more? Slain by each other's Hands,
Or what is worse; or by the Air you breath'd?
For all is Murder, Death, and Blood about us:
Nothing safe; it is contagious all:
The Earth, and Air, and Skies are full of Treason!
The Evil Genius rules the Universe,
And on Mankind rains Tempests of Destruction.
Where will the Slaughter of the Species end?
When it begins with Kings and with their Sons,
A general Ruin threatens all below.
How will the good King hear the sad Report?
I fear th' Event; but as it can't be hid,
I'll bear it to him in the softest Terms,
And summon every Power to soothe his Grief,
And slack the Torrent of his Royal Passion. [_Exit._

SCENE V. _Senate-House._

PONTEACH [_solus_].

The Torrent rises, and the Tempest blows;
Where will this rough, rude Storm of Ruin end?
What crimson Floods are yet to drench the Earth?
What new-form'd Mischiefs hover in the Air,
And point their Stings at this devoted Head?
Has Fate exhausted all her Stores of Wrath,
Or has she other Vengeance in reserve?
What can she more? My Sons, my Name is gone;
My Hopes all blasted, my Delights all fled;
Nothing remains but an afflicted King,
That might be pitied by Earth's greatest Wretch.
My Friends; my Sons, ignobly, basely slain,
Are more than murder'd, more than lost by Death.
Had they died fighting in their Country's Cause,
I should have smil'd and gloried in their Fall;
Yes, boasting that I had such Sons to lose,
I would have rode in Triumph o'er their Tombs.
But thus to die, the Martyrs of their Folly,
Involv'd in all the complicated Guilt
Of Treason, Murder, Falsehood, and Deceit,
Unbridled Passion, Cowardice, Revenge,
And every Thing that can debase the Man,
And render him the just Contempt of all,
And fix the foulest Stain of Infamy,
Beyond the Power of Time to blot it out;