ish your fears, cast all your cares on me;
Plenty and ease, and peace of mind, shall wait you,
And make your latter days of life most happy.
O lady! but I must not, cannot, tell you,
How anxious I have been for all your dangers,
And how my heart rejoices at your safety.
So when the spring renews the flow'ry field,
And warns the pregnant nightingale to build,
She seeks the safest shelter of the wood,
Where she may trust her little tuneful brood;
Where no rude swains her shady cell may know,
No serpents climb, nor blasting winds may blow;
Fond of the chosen place, she views it o'er,
Sits there, and wanders through the grove no more;
Warbling, she charms it each returning night,
And loves it with a mother's dear delight. [_exeunt._

ACT THE THIRD.

SCENE I. THE COURT.

_Enter Alicia, with a paper._

_Alic._ This paper to the great protector's hand
With care and secresy must be convey'd:
His bold ambition now avows its aim,
To pluck the crown from Edward's infant brow,
And fix it on his own. I know he holds
My faithless Hastings adverse to his hopes,
And much devoted to the orphan king;
On that I build: this paper meets his doubts,
And marks my hated rival as the cause
Of Hastings' zeal for his dead master's sons.
Oh, jealousy! thou bane of pleasing friendship,
How does thy rancour poison all our softness,
And turn our gentle natures into bitterness!
See, where she comes! once my heart's dearest blessing,
Now my chang'd eyes are blasted with her beauty,
Loath that known face, and sicken to behold her.

_Enter Jane Shore._

_Jane S._ O my Alicia!

_Alic._ What new grief is this?
What unforeseen misfortune has surpris'd thee,
That racks thy tender heart thus?

_Jane S._ O Dumont!

_Alic._ Say, what of him?

_Jane S._ That friendly, honest, man,
Whom Belmour brought of late to my assistance,
On whose kind care, whose diligence and faith,
My surest trust was built, this very morn
Was seiz'd on by the cruel hand of power,
Forc'd from my house, and borne away to prison.

_Alic._ To prison, said you? can you guess the cause?

_Jane S._ Too well, I fear. His bold defence of me
Has drawn the vengeance of lord Hastings on him.

_Alic._ Lord Hastings! ha!

_Jane S._ Some fitter time must tell thee
The tale of my hard hap. Upon the present
Hang all my poor, my last remaining, hopes.
Within this paper is my suit contain'd;
Here, as the princely Gloster passes forth,
I wait to give it on my h