CONSTANTINE.
A voice within me seal'd its fair report!
Alas! it doth not; therefore now indulge me.
If there be one amongst you, unto whom,
With dark forbidding brow, in a stern moment,
I've given ungen'rous pain; one whose kind service
I have with foolish and capricious humours
More irksome made; one whose frank openness
Of manly love, offer'd to me as man,
In gen'rous confidence, with heartless pride
I coldly have repell'd; yea, if there be
One of you all that ever from my presence
I have with sadden'd heart unkindly sent,
I here, in meek repentance, of him crave
A brother's hand, in token of forgiveness.
And be it in true charity stretch'd forth,
As to a man of much infirmity,
Who has with many trials been beset,
Wounding oft-times in bitterness of soul
The love he should have honour'd.
What! is there none that will to me hold out
The palm of charity?
Then I'll embrace ye all, and, with eas'd heart,
