Page:Miscellaneous Plays 1.pdf/37

One lovely bush of the pale virgin thorn,
Bent o'er a little heap of lowly turf,
Is all the sad memorial of her worth;
All that remains to mark where she is laid.

RAYNER.

Oh! Oh! and was it thus!

COUNT ZATERLOO.

But let us now shake off these dismal thoughts,

This hour was meant for social fellowship:
Resume your seats, my friends, and, gentle Rayner,
Clear up thy cloudy brows and take thy place.

RAYNER.

I fain would be excus'd.

COUNT ZATERLOO (gently forcing him to sit down).

Nay, no excuse:

Thou must perforce a social hour or two
Spend with us. To ye all, my noble friends,
I fill this cup. (drinks.)
———Bernard, how goes thy suit?
Hast thou yet to thy greedy Lawyer's pocket
Convey'd thy hindmost ducat? Ha, ha, ha!
Had he, with arms in hand, ta'en from thee boldly
Half of the sum, thou would'st have call'd him robber.
Ha, ha,, ha! (laughing heartily.)

BERNARD.

Yes, thou may'st laugh: