nizable. But this is a mournful subject, and it is useless to dwell upon it now.
VIOLET.
Very true; let us speak of those things for which there is still cause of thankfulness. The Irish home you have found on the mountains of Wicklow, is it not a pleasant one?
MURREY.
Pleasant to those who look on sky and cliff, on wood and torrent, to rouse and refresh the mind, in the intervals of such retirement as hath a purpose and a limit. To the lonely outcast what scene is pleasant? The meanest man who plies his honest trade in the narrow lane of a city, where passers-by may wish him a good day, or bid God speed him, has a domicile and a home which I think of with envy.
VIOLET.
O do not, then, live any longer in this deserted situation!
MURREY.
I know what thou wilt offer, but it must not be.
VIOLET.
Why so? Since I have lost my dear mother, and have no farther duties to detain me here, may I not cross the sea with you now, and spend
