Page:A Series of Plays on the Passions Volume 1.pdf/181

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Thy soldier's fame is far too surely rais'd To be o'erthrown with one unhappy chance. I've heard of thy brave deeds with swelling heart, And yet shall live to cast my cap in air At glorious tales of thee—

Bas. Forbear, forbear! thy words but wring my soul.

Geof. O! pardon me! I am old maimed Geoffry. O! do not go! I've but one hand to hold thee.

Bas. Two would not hold so well, old honour'd vet'ran! What wouldst thou have me do?

Geof. Return, my lord, for love of blessed heaven, Seek not such desp'rate ways! where would you go?

Bas. Does Geoffry ask? where should a soldier go? To hide disgrace? there is no place but one. (Struggling to get free.) Let go thy foolish hold, and force me not To do some violence to thy hoary head— What, wilt thou not? nay, then it must be so: (Breaks violently from him, and )

Geof. Curs'd, feeble hand! he's gone to seek perdition! I cannot run. O! curse that stupid hand,