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Rh

Than him who bears it.—But thou know'st it all. When from a distant country, where with honour I earn'd a soldier's pittance, the fair promises Of a near kinsman tempted me, and I, Tho' by my nature most incautious, And little skill'd to gain by flatt'ring arts An old man's love, high in his favour stood; That villain Hubert rous'd his jealous nature With artful tales of slights and heir-like wishes, And side-long mock'ry of his feebleness, Till, in the bitterness of changed love, All his vast wealth he did bequeath to him, And left me here, ev'n in this stranger's land, (For years of absence makes it so to me,) A disappointed, friendless, unknown man, Poor and depressed, such as you see me now.

Double, detested, cruel-hearted villain!

By heaven he dies, as I do wear this arm! (they all start up.) Defended by a host of liv'ried knaves, I'd seek him out alone.

Thou shalt not go alone; here, heart and hand We will all join thee in so good a cause.