come, let me press thee,
[_laying hold of her._
Pant on thy bosom, sink into thy arms,
And lose myself in the luxurious flood.

_Jane S._ Forbear, my lord!--here let me rather die, [_kneeling._
And end my sorrows and my shame for ever.

_Lord H._ Away with this perverseness----'tis too much.
Nay, if you strive--'tis monstrous affectation! [_striving._

_Jane S._ Retire! I beg you, leave me----

_Lord H._ Thus to coy it!----
With one who knows you too.----

_Jane S._ For mercy's sake----

_Lord H._ Ungrateful woman! Is it thus you pay
My services?----

_Jane S._ Abandon me to ruin----
Rather than urge me----

_Lord H._ This way to your chamber; [_pulling her._
There if you struggle----

_Jane S._ Help, O gracious heaven!
Help! Save me! Help! [_exit._

_Enter Dumont; he interposes._

_Dum._ My lord! for honour's sake----

_Lord H._ Hah! What art thou?--Be gone!

_Dum._ My duty calls me
To my attendance on my mistress here.

_Lord H._ Avaunt! base groom----
At distance wait, and know thy office better.

_Dum._ No, my lord----
The common ties of manhood call me now,
And bid me thus stand up in the defence
Of an oppress'd, unhappy, helpless, woman.

_Lord H._ And dost thou know me, slave?

_Dum._ Yes, thou proud lord!
I know thee well; know thee with each advantage
Which wealth, or pow'r, or noble birth, can give thee.
I know thee too for one who stains those honours,
And blots a long illustrious line of ancestry,
By poorly daring thus to wrong a woman.

_Lord H._ 'Tis wondrous well! I see, my saint-like dame,
You stand provided of your braves and ruffians,
To man your cause, and bluster in your brothel.

_Dum._ Take back the foul reproach, unmanner'd railer!
Nor urge my rage too far, lest thou shouldst find
I have as daring spirits in my blood
As thou or any of thy race e'er boasted;
And though no gaudy titles grac'd my birth,
Yet heav'n that made me honest, made me more
Than ever king did, when he made a lord.

_Lord H._ Insolent villain! henceforth let this teach thee
[_draws, and strikes him._
The distance 'twixt a peasant and a prince.

_Dum._ Nay then, my lord, [_drawing_] learn you by this, how well
An arm resolv'd can guard its master's life.
[_they fight; Dumont disarms Lord Hastings._

_Lord H._ Confusion! baffled by a base-born hind!

_Dum._ Now, haughty sir, where is our differ