There we beheld an hero of a comely and erect aspect, but
pale and languid, sitting under a canopy of state. By the faces and dumb
sorrow of those who attended we thought him in the article of death. At
a distance sat a lady, whose life seemed to hang upon the same thread
with his: she kept her eyes fixed upon him, and seemed to smother ten
thousand thousand nameless things, which urged her tenderness to clasp
him in her arms: but her greatness of spirit overcame those sentiments,
and gave her power to forbear disturbing his last moment; which
immediately approached. The hero looked up with an air of negligence,
and satiety of being, rather than of pain to leave it; and leaning back
his head, expired.[148]
When the heroine, who sat at a distance, saw his last instant come, she
threw herself at his feet, and kneeling, pressed his hand to her lips;
in which posture she continued under the agony of an unutterable sorrow,
till conducted from our sight by her attendants. That commanding awe,
which accompanies the grief of great minds, restrained the multitude
while in her presence; but as soon as she retired, they gave way to
their distraction, and all the islanders called upon their deceased
hero.
Pages:
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159