Page:A Series of Plays on the Passions Volume 1.pdf/373

Rh

De Mon. Why, of your lady. Said I not my sister?

Jer. The Lady Jane, your sister?

''De Mon. (In a faultering voice.)'' Yes, I did call her so.

Jer. In truth, I cannot tell you where she went. E'en now, from the short-beechen walk hard-by, I saw her through the garden-gate return. The Marquis Rezenvelt, and Freberg's Countess Are in her company. This way they come, As being nearer to the back apartments; But I shall stop them, if it be your will, And bid them enter here.

De Mon. No, stop them not. I will remain unseen, And mark them as they pass. Draw back a little.

De Mon. I hear their footsteps on the grating sand. How like the croaking of a carrion bird, That hateful voice sounds to the distant ear! And now she speaks—her voice sounds cheerly too— O curse their mirth!— Now, now, they come, keep closer still! keep steady! (Taking hold of Jerome with both hands.)