Page:Miscellaneous Plays 1.pdf/29

Rh

Such as the manliest men in their cross'd lives Are sometimes forc'd to shed,

And spoke he of his love?

Nay, there indeed He was reserv'd; but that part of his story, Which I from sure authority have learnt, I still thro' broken words could shrewdly read, Altho' he nam'd it not.

Hast thou explain'd to him our course of life?

No, that had been too much: but can'st thou doubt, Suff'ring such wrongs as Hubert's artful baseness Has put upon him, he will scruple long, Thus circumstanc'd, to join his arm with ours In murd'ring the rich villain?

I pray thee call it shooting! that plain word Still makes Sebastian, like a squeamish dame, Shrink and look lily-fac'd. To shoot a man As one in battle shoots a fronted foe; As from the tavern's broil, in measur'd field, One shoots a friend, is nought:—but that word murder—