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Theo. Distinctly; and most beautiful the sight! A sight which sweetly stirreth in the heart Feelings that gladden and ennoble it, Dancing like sun-beams on the rippled sea: A blessed picture! Foul befall the man Whose narrow selfish soul would shade or mar it!

Hart. To this right heartily I say Amen! But if there be a man whose gen'rous soul (turning to Orra) Like ardour fills; who would with thee pursue Thy gen'rous plan; who would his harness don—

Or. (putting her hand on him in gentle interuption.) Nay, valiant Banneret, who would, an't please you, His harness doff: all feuds, all strife forbear, All military rivalship, all lust Of added power, and live in steady quietness, A mild and fost'ring Lord. Know you of one That would so share my task?—You answer not; And your brave friend methinks, casts on the ground A thoughtful look; wots he of such a Lord? (to Theo.)

Theo. Wot I of such a Lord?—No, noble Orra, I do not; nor does Hartman, tho' perhaps His friendship may betray his judgment. No; None such exist: we are all fierce, contentious, Restless and proud, and prone to vengeful feuds; The very distant sound of war excites us,