Daily Richmond Whig. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1828-1831, 1829-03-17
DRAMATIC FRAGMENT.-sr. Hrsnr ,srxLn..
0LivEn CRoMwELL's last atsrsies sts he Daurh-
r., Mrs. Caypole,) inumsdidteiy prss;ossfo bar
ScErE.-a Bctfcknn,be

u vncn
There rs void in this distracted bosom
Zoo wide for worldsto fiji.
My heart is broken, and thy constant love, -
Like fresh green moss upon fallen column
Has long been all that holds the perishing fragments
In its soft touch together.
.1frs C--1s't come to this,
And lungs thy happiness upon thread
So frail as this poor life Will all thy honors,
qqy conquests, dignties, avail thee nothing. ,
Thine are the throne, the sceptre--
CFom.-Baubles Baubles!
Would that my soul had neer been urcd by scl
Oh that could return into the womb,
And be the nothing that vas or live
MY days of happy boyhood 'er again-
Ny innocent boyhood when slept soft sleeps
Unbroken, unembittered, and shed tears,
Not like these lava drops that furrow up
Che ehe;ks they course, but the hearts geutlcst
tightening the fouut they flowed from:
ttr, better still, that could drop at once
lnto tue silent grave But, tho I've prayed
For death, he will not come, and kindly add
Fhe body's ruin to the wreck within,
Alas my soul rs like a weapon, which
Heavens liightnings have Destroyed yet Leu tn
lis scabbard ofvie clay.
.Nrs. C.-Oh! listen to NC,
Dear father, listen.
Crow.-Speak, speak on my child.
N .arrs. C.-My hour is nigh
Oh, do not nurse tile treacherous hope that fear
Or wonnans weakness prompts tho-thought, feel,
l know that am dying, and yon taper,
Now glmmering in its socket, will not waste
80 soon as Yet ere my spirit parts,
I've somewhat for thy ear.
Crnn.-Oh! give it utterance
And never wretch tortured with want or pain
Hung DER the sounds that promised wealth and case
AS will listen to thee!
.Hrs. C.-Draw nearer-nearer yet--lcnd me tI,v
hand.
Look down on me. sweet heaven, and strengthen me-
go that my dying breath may dry the tears
country sheds, and give to pristine lustre
n Fathers tgrushed fame.
Cyopt.-What niean'st thou child!
I1,y words arc dark and vague, yet shake MY soul
Like distant thunder, ere we know the place
90 which the bolt will fall.
.afrs C.--Phere was a man
yho found PROSTATE in the dust, and weitering
" her own gore. THE wounds were deep not deadly;
tie raised her. staunched her wounds, ind smiled up
on her.
She chung to him, and blessed him, Tlen he smiled
again, and she was eloquent in praise
and liberal in reward-and then he claspcd her.
And stabbed her to the heart
Croin Most horrible!
Lives there wretch like this! my spite shall find him
~ sGrur the country round, ere he shall 'scopc
The hand Of Justice.
Mrs. C.-Ah! the man mean
IS seated high above bis fellow men,
loo high for justice Thousands at his nod
iremble, and tens of thousands, who now curse him
IN secret. hide their hatred in their hearts
Like shcath'd digger, and they dare not strike.
Croa.--Oh! heaven!
Why knew this no sooner,
..Afrs. CT feared the tale
Would but offend yon.
uCrom.- Offend me! lives the wretch
Where the sun shines, and the wind blows, I'll find
- him:
ats he upon throne Is high as Andes,
4he vengeance of this arm shall reach him. Say
Bnt where and who he is
Mrs. G.-He stands there.
Ills name is Cromwell
Crom -Heaven and earth! dol hear right.
II murderer! treacherous murderer!
Girl tell me what thou meanst; who is't that
iIaye slaughtered as thou say'sts
.Mrs. C.--'Pvas LIBERTY
sPwas Honor, Justice, Virtue; twas thy Country,
1sldst thou not find her bleeding from her wounds
Which traitors planted? Didst not seem to soothe her
And live but in her favour Smile upon her,
Eiawning till she vas in thy grasp and them
dare not paint the rest. Ask thy own heart
TO finish the foul likeness.
Crom.-Oh spare me, spare me
;lrs C.-Not TIL thy actions show so1l resov'd
that injuries foul these shall last no longer
CrouI---Oh thou hast probed my heart,
And from its secret chambers whore thew lurked
Form from my inmost thoughts, and held them up
TsaLs. and bleeding to my frighted gaze
What vouidst thou have me do,
llrs. C.-Descend King CharIes's thyonc--
wear OIL the piltered diadem from thy brow
Restore the peoples ravished right s. and leave
4he tainted atmosphere of courts to breathe
In penitence and peace.
Crom.-To live q wretch,
w nom all who do not hate will scorn---to waste
beneath the wthcsing scow OF cold contempt
90 be like the majestic eagle shorn
OF all Its plunes, chained to the earth n mark
For every paltry beak to peck against
40 have my country's sorrows charged on me-
And she prospers, though her beggars share
Her glory and her honours, shall be
\ foul anomaly, thing to point at,
and negro-like. grow black beneath the sun
That brightens all besides. Perish the thonph,!
1--we, rwere better, happier, far, TO stoop beneath
Inc headsTnans axe, OF fdll upon the sword
Which my own right hand draws.