Lady. (turning from him displeased to Mon.) You And meets not this man's love.-Friends! rarest are fatigued, my lord; you want repose; Say, should we not retire?

De Mon. Thus, it is true, from the sad years of He serves as though he loved me. This pure air

Freb. Judge for thyself: in truth I do not There are no serpents in our pleasant fields.

I go to revel it with sprightly dames,
And drive the night away.

(Filling another cup, and drinking.) Man. I should be glad to see your honour gay. De Mon. And thou too shalt be gay. There, honest Manuel,

Put these broad pieces in thy leathern purse,
And take at night a cheerful jovial glass.
Here is one too, for Bremer: he loves wine;
And one for Jaques: be joyful all together.

Enter SERVANT.

Ser. My lord, I met e'en now, a short way off, Your countryman, the Marquis Rezervelt.

De Mon. (starting from his seat, and letting the cup fall from his hand.) Who, say'st thou?

Ser. Marquis Rezenvelt, an' please you.

De Mon. Thou liest-it is not so-it is impos

sible!

Ser. I saw him with these eyes, plain as your

self.

The air wherein thou draw'st thy fulsome breath
Is poison to me-Oceans shall divide us ' (Pauses.)
But no; thou think'st I fear thee, cursed reptile;
And hast a pleasure in the damned thought.
Though my heart's blood should curdle at thy sight,
I'll stay and face thee still.

(Knocking at the chamber door.)
Ha! who knocks there?
Freb. (without.) It is thy friend, De Monfort.
De Mon. (opening the door.) Enter, then.

Enter FREBERG.

Freb. (taking his hand kindly.) How art thou now? How hast thou past the night?

Has kindly sleep refresh'd thee?

De Mon. Yes, I have lost an hour or two in sleep,

And so should be refresh'd.

Freb.

And art thou not?
Thy looks speak not of rest. Thou art disturb'd.
De Mon. No, somewhat ruffled from a foolish
cause,

De Mon. Fool! 'tis some passing stranger thou Which soon will pass away.

hast seen,

And with a hideous likeness been deceived.
Ser. No other stranger could deceive my sight.
De Mon. (dashing his clenched hand violently
upon the table, and overturning every
thing.) Heaven blast thy sight! it lights
on nothing good.

Ser. I surely thought no harm to look upon him.
De Mon. What, dost thou still insist? Him must
it be?

Does it so please thee well? (Servant endeavours to speak.) Hold thy damn'd tongue!

By heaven I'll kill thee! (Going furiously up to him.)

Freb. (shaking his head.) Ah no, De Monfort!
something in thy face

Tells me another tale. Then wrong me not
If any secret grief distract thy soul,
Here am I all devoted to thy love:
Open thy heart to me. What troubles thee?
De Mon. I have no grief: distress me not, my
friend.

Freb. Nay, do not call me so. Wert thou my
friend,

Wouldst thou not open all thine inmost soul,
And bid me share its every consciousness?
De Mon. Freberg, thou know'st not man; not
nature's man,

Man. (in a soothing voice.) Nay, harm him not, But only him who, in smooth studied works

my lord; he speaks the truth;

I've met his groom, who told me certainly
His lord is here. I should have told you so,
But thought, perhaps, it might displease your
honour.

De Mon. (becoming all at once calm, and
turning sternly to Manuel.) And how
darest thou think it would displease me?
What is't to me who leaves or enters Amberg?
But it displeases me, yea, even to frenzy,
That every idle fool must hither come,

To break my leisure with the paltry tidings

Of all the cursed things he stares upon.
(Servant attempts to speak-De Monfort stamps
with his foot.)

Take thine ill-favour'd visage from my sight,
And speak of it no more.

[EXIT Servant.

And go thou too; I choose to be alone.

[EXIT Manuel.

(De Monfort goes to the door by which they went
out; opens it and looks.)

But is he gone indeed? yes, he is gone.
(Goes to the opposite door, opens it, and looks:
then gives loose to all the fury of gesture and
walks up and down in great agitation.)

It is too much by heaven it is too much!
He haunts me-stings me-like a devil haunts-
He'll make a raving maniac of me-Villain!

Of polish'd sages, shines deceitfully
In all the splendid foppery of virtue.
That man was never born whose secret soul,
With all its motley treasure of dark thoughts,
Foul fantasies, vain musings, and wild dreams,
Was ever open'd to another scan.
Away, away! it is delusion all.

Freb. Well, be reserved then; perhaps I'm
wrong.

De Mon. How goes the hour?

Freb. 'Tis early still; a long day lies before us;
Let us enjoy it. Come along with me;
I'll introduce you to my pleasant friend.
De Mon. Your pleasant friend?
Freb.

Yes, him of whom I spake.
(Taking his hand.)
There is no good I would not share with thee;
And this man's company, to minds like thine,
Is the best banquet feast I could bestow.
But I will speak in mystery no more;
It is thy townsman, noble Rezen velt.

(De Mon. pulls his hand hastily from Freberg,
and shrinks back.)

Fre. No, say not all men. But thou art offend- He seem'd amazed; and fain he would have learnt

Freb. In truth, I thought you had been well with And here with postman's speed he follows me, him.

(A long pause. De Monfort walking up and
down with a quick pace.)

Enter REZENVELT, and runs freely up to De Monfort.
Rez. (to De Mon.) My noble marquis, welcome!
De Mon.
Sir, I thank you.
Rez. (to Freb.) My gentle friend, well met.
Abroad so early?

Freb. It is indeed an early hour for me.
How suits thy last night's revel on thy spirits?
Rez. O, light as ever. On my way to you,
E'en now, I learnt De Monfort was arrived,
And turn'd my steps aside; so here I am.

(Bowing gayly to De Monfort.)
De Mon. I thank you, sir; you do me too much
honour.
(Proudly.)

Rez. Nay, say not so; not too much honour,

surely,

Unless, indeed, 'tis more than pleases you.

De Mon. (confused.) Having no previous notice of your coming,

I look'd not for it.

Rez. Ay, true indeed; when I approach you
next,

I'll send a herald to proclaim my coming,
And bow to you by sound of trumpet, marquis.
De Mon. (to Freb. turning haughtily from Re-
zenvelt with affected indifference.) How
does your cheerful friend, that good old
man?

Finding his home so dull and tiresome grown.
Freb. (to De Mon.) Is Rezenvelt so sadly miss'd
with you?

Your town so changed?

De Mon.
Not altogether so ;
Some witlings and jest-mongers still remain
For fools to laugh at.

Rez. But he laughs not, and therefore he is wise.
For ever frowns on them with sullen brow
Contemptuous; therefore he is very wise.
Nay, daily frets his most refined soul
With their poor folly, to its inmost core;
Therefore he is most eminently wise.

Freb. Fy, Rezen velt! you are too early gay.
Such spirits rise but with the evening glass:
They suit not placid morn.

(To De Monfort, who, after walking impatiently
up and down, comes close to his ear, and lays
hold of his arm.)

What would you, Monfort?
De Mon. Nothing-what is't o'clock ?
No, no-I had forgot-'tis early still.

(Turns away again.) Freb. (to Rez.) Waltser informs me that you have agreed

To read his verses o'er, and tell the truth.
It is a dangerous task.

De Mon. (to Ser.) What dost thou want?
Ser.

I thought your honour rung. De Mon. I have forgot-stay; are my horses saddled?

Ser. I thought, my lord, you would not ride /to-day, After so long a journey.

De Mon. (impatiently.) Well-'tis good. Begone! I want thee not. [EXIT Servant. Rez. (smiling significantly.) I humbly crave your pardon, gentle marquis. It grieves me that I cannot stay with you, And make my visit of a friendly length.

Freb. My cheerful friend? I know not whom I trust your goodness will excuse me now;

you mean.

De Mon. Count Waterlan.

Freb. I know not one so named.

Another time I shall be less unkind. (To Freberg.) Will you not go with me? Freb. Excuse me, Monfort, I'll return again. [EXEUNT Rezen velt and Freberg. De Mon. (alone, tossing his arms distractedly.) Freb. You have not yet inquired for honest Hell hath no greater torment for th' accursed

De Mon. (very confused.) O pardon me-it was

at Bâle I knew him.

Reisdale.

I met him as I came, and mention'd you.

Than this man's presence gives---
Abhorred fiend' he hath a pleasure too,

Freb. (starting from his seat, where he has been
sitting during the conversation between
the Lady and the Page.) It is an apparition
he has seen.

Or it is Jane De Monfort.
[EXIT, hastily.
Lady. (displeased.) No; such description surely
suits not her.

[EXIT. Did she inquire for me?

Freb. (looking round.) In truth, I like those I should not else have waited coldly here.

Lady. Is it not noble then? (He shakes his head.) But Freberg has inform'd me

Lady. It is not late, but soon we shall be roused He is suspicious grown. With the loud entry of our frolick guests.

To joy and sweet forgetfulness of pain;

The sight of me would wake his feeling mind
To other thoughts. I am no doting mistress;
No fond, distracted wife, who must forthwith
Rush to his arms and weep. I am his sister:
The eldest daughter of his father's house:
Calm and unwearied is my love for him;
And having found him, patiently I'll wait,
Nor greet him in the hour of social joy,
To dash his mirth with tears.-
The night wears on; permit me to withdraw.
Freb. Nay, do not, do not injure us so far!
Disguise thyself, and join our friendly train.
Jane. You wear not masks to night.

Lady. We wear not masks, but you may be con-
ceal'd

Behind the double foldings of a veil.

As ever fancy own'd.

Beauty of every cast and shade is there,
From the perfection of a faultless form,
Down to the common, brown, unnoted maid,
Who looks but pretty in her Sunday gown.

1st Gent. There is, indeed, a gay variety.
Rez. And if the liberality of nature
Suffices not, there's store of grafted charms,
Blending in one the sweets of many plants,
So obstinately, strangely opposite,

As would have well defied all other art
But female cultivation. Aged youth,

With borrow'd locks in rosy chaplets bound,

Clothes her dim eye, parch'd lips, and skinny cheek

In most unlovely softness:

And youthful age, with fat, round, trackless face,

Jane. (after pausing to consider.) In truth, I The downcast look of contemplation deep

feel a little so inclined.

Methinks unknown, I e'en might speak to him,
And gently prove the temper of his mind;
But for the means I must become your debtor.

(To Lady.) Lady. Who waits? (Enter her Woman.) Attend this lady to my wardrobe,

And do what she commands you.

[EXEUNT Jane and Waiting-woman. Freb. (looking after Jane, as she goes out, with admiration.) O! what a soul she bears! see how she steps!

Naught but the native dignity of worth
E'er taught the moving form such noble grace.

Lady. Such lofty mien, and high assumed gait
I've seen ere now, and men have call'd it pride.
Freb. No, 'faith! thou never didst, but oft
indeed

The paltry imitation thou hast seen.
(Looking at her.) How hang those trappings on
thy motley gown?

They seem like garlands on a May-day queen,
Which hinds have dress'd in sport.

(Lady turns away displeased.)
Freb. Nay, do not frown; I spoke it but in haste:
For thou art lovely still in every garb.
But see, the guests assemble.

Enter groups of well-dressed people, who pay their
compliments to FREBERG and his LADY; and followed
by her, pass into the inner apartment, where more
company appear assembling, as if by another entry.

Freb. (who remains on the front of the stage with a friend or two.) How loud the hum of this gay-meeting crowd! "Tis like a bee-swarm in the noonday sun. Music will quell the sound. Music strike up.

Who waits without?

(Music, and when it ceases, enter from the inner apartment Rezen velt, with several gentlemen, all richly dressed.)

Most pensively assumes.

Is it not even so? The native prude,
With forced laugh, and merriment uncouth,
Plays off the wild coquet's successful charms
With most unskilful pains; and the coquet,
In temporary crust of cold reserve,
Fixes her studied looks upon the ground
Forbiddingly demure.

Freb. Fy thou art too severe.
Rez.

Say, rather, gentle.
I' faith! the very dwarfs attempt to charm
With lofty airs of puny majesty ;
Whilst potent damsels of a portly make,
Totter like nurselings, and demand the aid
Of gentle sympathy.

From all those divers modes of dire assault,
He owns a heart of hardest adamant,
Who shall escape to night.

Freb. (to De Mon. who has entered during
Rezenvelt's speech, and heard the greatest
part of it.) Ha, ha, ha, ha!

How pleasantly he gives his wit the rein,
Yet guides its wild career!

(De Mon. is silent.)
Rez. (smiling archly.) What, think you, Fre-
berg, the same powerful spell
Of transformation reigns o'er all to night?
Or that De Monfort is a woman turn'd,
So widely from his native self to swerve,
As grace my folly with a smile of his ?

De Mon. Nay, think not, Rezenvelt, there is no
smile

I can bestow on thee. There is a smile,
A smile of nature too, which I can spare,
And yet, perhaps, thou wilt not thank me for it.
(Smiles contemptuously.)
Rez. Not thank thee! It were surely most un-
grateful

No thanks to pay for nobly giving me
What, well we see, has cost thee so much pain.
For nature hath her smiles of birth more painful

Freb. (to those just entered.) What, lively gal- Than bitterest execrations.
lants, quit the field so soon?

Are there no beauties in that moving crowd
To fix your fancy?

Rez. Ay, marry, are there! men of every fancy
May in that moving crowd some fair one find,
To suit their taste, though whimsical and strange,

Freb. These idle words will lead us to dis

quiet:

Forbear, forbear, my friends! Go, Rezenvelt,
Accept the challenge of those lovely dames,
Who through the portal come with bolder step
To claim your notice.