Page:A Series of Plays on the Passions Volume 3.pdf/77

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Frank. (to 1st. Out.) How lik'st thou this, Fernando?

1st Out. Well sung i'faith! but serving ill our turn, Who would all trav'llers and benighted folks Scare from our precincts. Such sweet harmony Will rather tempt invasion.

Frank. Fear not, for mingled voices, heard afar, Thro' glade and glen and thicket, stealing on To distant list'ners, seem wild-goblin-sounds; At which the lonely traveler checks his steed, Pausing with long-drawn breath and keen-turn'd ear; And twilight pilferers cast down in haste Their ill-got burthens, while the homeward hind Turns from his path, full many a mile about, Thro' bog and mire to grope his blund'ring way. Such, to the startled ear of superstition, Were seraph's song, could we like seraphs sing.

2d Out. Disperse ye different ways: we are undone.

Frank. How say'st thou, shrinking poltron? we undone! Outlaw'd and ruin'd men, who live by daring!