Page:Three Plays Sunderland Hills.pdf/38

Rh That clay-cold terror froze me where I stood, And I forgot to beg some euphrasy, To clear my dim, perplex'd, and dazzled eyes.

'Tis well, good Robin, you shall have your drug!

And now good-bye, good night, good sleep, Sylvester!

Carry him in and lay him in his chair.

Ah, madam, you have all my sympathy.

Poor Sylvester!