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Where, as I guess, the Lady is confin'd. When sleep has still'd the house, we'll make our way.

Theo. Aye, by my faith it is a noble plan! Guarded or not we well may overcome The few that may compose her midnight guard.

Frank. We shall not shrink from that.— But by my fay! To-morrow is St. Michael's Eve: 'twere well To be the spectre-huntsman for a night, And bear her off, without pursuit or hindrance.

Theo. I comprehend thee not.

Frank.Thou shalt ere long. But stand not here; an inner room I have, Where thou shalt rest and some refreshment take, And then we will more fully talk of this, Which, slightly mention'd, seems chimerical. Follow me. (Turning to him as they go out.) Hast thou still upon thine arm That mark which from mine arrow thou receiv'dst When sportively we shot? The wound was deep, And gall'd thee much, but thou mad'st light of it.

Theo. Yes, here it is. (Pulling up his sleeve as they go out, and .)