taken such a dislike to me that I hate to have any thing to say to her.
WORSHIPTON.
(Exeunt.
SCENE III. A chamber all littered over with books, papers, old coats, shoes, &c. &c. Amaryllis discovered sitting by a table with a pen in his hand, and paper before him. After musing some time, he writes, and then blots out what he has written.
AMARYLLIS (to himself).
"On thy ideal pinions let me fly,
"High-soaring Fancy, far above the sky:
"Beyond the starry sphere towering sublime,
"Where vulgar thought hath never dar'd to—
No, climb does not please me: it is too heavy a motion for thought. (Musing and rubbing his forehead.)
"Beyond all thought inspiring vulgar rhyme."
No, that won't do neither. (Musing again and biting his nails.) Pest take it! if I should bite my