Page:A Series of Plays on the Passions Volume 1.pdf/315

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''De Mon. (alone.)'' I know not how it is, my heart stands back, And meets not this man's love.—Friends! rarest friends! Rather than share his undiscerning praise With every table wit, and book-form'd sage, And paltry poet puling to the moon, Fd court from him proscription; yea abuse, And think it proud distinction.[

A Small Apartment in ''House: a table and breakfast set out. Enter followed by  and sets himself down by the table, with a cheerful face.''

De Mon. Manuel, this morning's sun shines pleasantly: These old apartments too are light and cheerful. Our landlord's kindness has reviv'd me much; He serves as though he lov'd me. This pure air Braces the listless nerves, and warms the blood; I feel in freedom here. (Filling a cup of coffee, and drinking.)

Man.Ah! sure, my Lord, No air is purer than the air at home.

De Mon. Here can I wander with assured steps, Nor dread, at every winding of the path, Lest an abhorred serpent cross my way, And move—(Stopping short.)

Man.What says your honour?