Page:Miscellaneous Plays 1.pdf/62

OLD MAN.

No, thou art not.

RAYNER.

The violence of the night must plead my pardon,

For breaking thus unask'd upon your rest.
But wand'ring from my way, I know not how,
And losing my companions of the road,
Deep in the 'tangled wood the storm o'ertook me;
When spying thro' the trees this glimm'ring lamp,
And judging it, as now it doth appear,
The mid-night taper of some holy man,
Such as do oft in dreary wilds like this
Hold their abode, I ventur'd onwards.
(Old Man, offering him bread and dryed fruits.)

OLD MAN.

Perhaps thou'rt hungry.

RAYNER.

I thank you gratefully.

OLD MAN.

There is no need.

Fall to, if thou hast any mind to it.

RAYNER.

I thank you truly, but I am not hungry.

OLD MAN.

Perhaps thou'rt dainty: I've naught else to give thee.