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Freb. No, I’ve seen him cheerful, And at the board, with soul-enliven'd face, Push the gay goblet round.—But it wears late. We shall seem topers more than social friends, If the returning sun surprise us here. (To Mast.) Good rest, my gen'rous host; we will retire. You wrestle with your age most manfully, But brave it not too far. Retire to sleep.

Mast. I will, my friend, but do you still remain, With noble Rezenvelt, and all my guests. Ye have not fourscore years upon your head; Do not depart so soon. God save you all! [ Master, leaning upon a Servant.

''Freb. to the Guests.'' Shall we resume?

Guests.The night is too far spent.

Freb. Well then, good rest to you.

''Rez. to Guests.''Good rest, my friends. [ all but Freberg and Rezenvelt.

Freb. Alas! my Rezenvelt! I vainly hop'd the hand of gentle peace, From this day's reconciliation sprung, These rude unseemly jarrings had subdu'd: But I have mark'd, e'en at the social board, Such looks, such words, such tones, such untold things, Too plainly told, 'twixt you and Monfort pass, That I must now despair. Yet who could think, two minds so much refin'd, So near in excellence, should be remov'd, So far remov'd, in gen'rous sympathy.