Page:Miscellaneous Plays 1.pdf/109

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And to the conflict turns it loosely forth, Weak and divided. I'm disturb'd for thee.

I thank thee, Father, but the crime of blood Your governor hath ne'er yet pardon'd; therefore Be not disturb'd for me; my hopes are small.

So much the better. Now to pious thoughts We will direct—Who comes to interrupt us?

It is the turnkey; a poor man who, tho' His state in life favours not the kind growth Of soft affections, has shewn kindness to me. He wears upon his face the aukwardness And hesitating look of one who comes To ask some favour; send him not away. (To Turnkey) What dost thou want, good friend? out with it, man! We are not very stern.

Please you, it has to me long been a priv'lege To shew the curious peasantry and boors, Who from the country flock o' holy days, Thro' his strait prison bars, the famous robber, That over-head is cell'd; and now a company Waits here without to see him, but he's sullen, And will not shew himself. If it might please you