Page:Inchbald - Lovers vows.djvu/18

6 For me. Why do you ak? Why don’t you make hate?

Well, well, Mr. oldier: but can you pay for it?

Here is money—make hate, or I’ll break every window in your houe.

Patience! Patience!

You were hungry yeterday when I at down to a comfortable dinner. You were hungry when I partook of a good upper. Oh! Why is o much bitter mixed with the joy of my return?

Be patient, my dear Frederick. Since I ee you, I am well. But I have been very ill: o ill, that I depaired of ever beholding you again.

Ill, and I was not with you? I will, now, never leave you more. Look, mother, how tall and trong I am grown. Thee arms can now afford you upport. They can, and hall, procure you ubitence.

Here is wine—a mot delicious nectar. [Aide.] It is only Rhenih; but it will pas for the bet old Hock.

Give it me. No,