the outlaw.
3
Jail. Softly; I must file them off;
And to do that must get an instrument.
I will be with thee anon.
[Exit Jailor.
Hel. Now, by yon Heaven, I almost scorn my Freedom—
Bought from this traitorous knave!
Would that my own good sword could cleave
A passage through these walls.———
Man, it is said, hath ever
Some enduring passion for wealth, and state—
Power—fame—or love:
Each moveth different natures—such, not mine.
Oh! I would be the Eagle, in its flight
Soaring to Heaven and sunning its strong pinions
Beneath the glorious sun;
And when fatigued with gazing on its splendor,
My couch should be the high and rugged cliff,
Whose dangerous steep man never yet hath clomb;
My food, torn from the pale and worthless slave,
Whose soul would grudge the given morsel;
And, for the music of the tinkling lyre,
And to do that must get an instrument.
I will be with thee anon.
[Exit Jailor.
Hel. Now, by yon Heaven, I almost scorn my Freedom—
Bought from this traitorous knave!
Would that my own good sword could cleave
A passage through these walls.———
Man, it is said, hath ever
Some enduring passion for wealth, and state—
Power—fame—or love:
Each moveth different natures—such, not mine.
Oh! I would be the Eagle, in its flight
Soaring to Heaven and sunning its strong pinions
Beneath the glorious sun;
And when fatigued with gazing on its splendor,
My couch should be the high and rugged cliff,
Whose dangerous steep man never yet hath clomb;
My food, torn from the pale and worthless slave,
Whose soul would grudge the given morsel;
And, for the music of the tinkling lyre,
