Page:A Series of Plays on the Passions Volume 1.pdf/411

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Jane.Thanks, worthy Jerome. O! who hath said, the wretched have no friends!

Freb. In every sensible and gen'rous breast Affliction finds a friend; but unto thee, Thou most exalted and most honourable, The heart in warmest adoration bows, And even a worship pays.

Jane. Nay, Freberg, Freberg! grieve me not, my friend. He to whose ear my praise most welcome was, Hears it no more; and, oh our piteous lot! What tongue will talk of him? Alas, alas! This more than all will bow me to the earth; I feel my misery here. The voice of praise was wont to name us both: I had no greater pride.

1st Off.Where is the prisoner? Into our hands he straight must be consign'd.

Bern. He is not subject now to human laws; The prison that awaits him is the grave.

1st Off. Ha! sayst thou so? there is foul play in this.