Page:A Series of Plays on the Passions Volume 1.pdf/123

Rh

Then heaven grant they may be nearer still; For O! my soul for war and danger pants, As doth the noble lion for his prey. My soul delights in battle.

Ros. Upon my simple word, I'd rather see A score of friendly fellows shaking hands, Than all the world in arms. Hast thou no fear?

Fred. What dost thou mean?

Ros.Hast thou no fear of death?

Fred. Fear is a name for something in the mind, But what, from inward sense I cannot tell. I could as little anxious march to battle, As when a boy to childish games I ran.

Ros. Then as much virtue hast thou in thy valour, As when a child thou hadst in childish play. The brave man is not he who feels no fear, For that were stupid and irrational, But he, whose noble soul its fear subdues, And bravely dares the danger nature shrinks from. As for your youth, whom blood and blows delight, Away with them! there is not in the crew One valiant spirit.—Ha! what sound is this? (shouting is heard without.)

Fred. The soldiers shout; I'll run and learn the cause.

Ros. But tell me first, how didst thou love the vet'ran?

Fred. He is too proud; he was displeas'd with me Because! offer'd him a little sum.

Ros. What money! O! most gen'rous noble spirit!