Page:Passions 2.pdf/232

220

''Elb. (rising displeased from her seat.)'' Call those who wait without. What may this mean?

Whose voice is that which in a day of joy Such plaintive music makes?

Atten. Pardon, my royal dame! be not offended! 'Tis a poor maid bereaved of her mind. Rent are her robes, her scatter'd locks unbound. Like one who long thro' rugged ways hath stray'd, Beat with the surly blast; but never yet, Tho' all so sorely shent, did I behold A fairer maid. She aims at no despite: She's wild but gentle.

Dwi. O hark again!