And helpless innocence-do they protect The infant lamb? and shall the infirmities,

Which have enabled this enormous Culprit To perpetrate his crimes, serve as a Sanctuary

To cover him from punishment? Shame! -Justice,

Admitting no resistance, bends alike

The feeble and the strong. She needs not here

Her bonds and chains, which make the mighty feeble.

-We recognise in this old Man a victim
Prepared already for the sacrifice.

Lacy. By heaven, his words are reason!
Osw.
Yes, my Friends,
His countenance is meek and venerable;
And, by the Mass, to see him at his
prayers!—

I am of flesh and blood, and may I perish When my heart does not ache to think of it!

Poor Victim! not a virtue under heaven But what was made an engine to ensnare

see

That all is well prepared.
Wal.

We will obey you. (Aside.) But softly! we must look a little

nearer.

Mar. Tell where you found us.

future time

I will explain the cause.

At some

[Exeunt.

This last device must end my work.-
Methinks

It were a pleasant pastime to construct
A scale and table of belief-as thus-
Two columns, one for passion, one for
proof;

Each rises as the other falls and first,
Passion a unit and against us-proof-
Nay, we must travel in another path,
Or we're stuck fast for ever;- -passion,
then,
Shall be a unit for us; proof-no, passion!
We'll not insult thy majesty by time,
Person, and place--the where, the when,

the how,

And all particulars that dull brains require
To constitute the spiritless shape of Fact,
They bow to, calling the idol, Demonstra-
tion.

A whipping to the Moralists who preach
That misery is a sacred thing for me,
I know no cheaper engine to degrade a

man,

Nor any half so sure. This Stripling's

mind

Osw. When I returned with water from the brook, I overheard the Villains-every word Like red-hot iron burnt into my heart. Said one, It is agreed on. The blind

Man

Shall feign a sudden illness, and the Girl, Who on her journey must proceed alone, Under pretence of violence, be seized. She is," continued the detested Slave, "She is right willing-strange if she were not!

They say, Lord Clifford is a savage man ; But, faith, to see him in his silken tunic, Fitting his low voice to the minstrel's harp, There's witchery in't. I never knew a

maid

That could withstand it. True," continued he,

"When we arranged the affair, she wept a

little

(Not the less welcome to my Lord for that) And said, 'My Father he will have it so.'"' Mar. I am your hearer.

From the stern breathing of the rough seawind;

This have we, but no other company: Commend me to the place. If a man should die

And leave his body here, it were all one
As he were twenty fathoms underground.
Her. Where is our common Friend?
Mar.
A ghost, methinks-
The Spirit of a murdered man, for instance-
Might have fine room to ramble about here,
A grand domain to squeak and gibber in.
Her. Lost Man! if thou have any close-
pent guilt

Pressing upon thy heart, and this the hour
Of visitation-

Mar.

A bold word from you!

Her. Restore him, Heaven! Mar. The desperate Wretch !—A Flower, Fairest of all flowers, was she once, but now They have snapped her from the stemPoh! let her lie

Besoiled with mire, and let the houseless snail Feed on her leaves. ay, there,

You knew her well

Old Man! you were a very Lynx, you knew The worm was in her