30
That clay-cold terror froze me where I stood,
And I forgot to beg some euphrasy,
To clear my dim, perplex'd, and dazzled eyes.
Madam Pomeroy:
'Tis well, good Robin, you shall have your drug!
And now good-bye, good night, good sleep, Sylvester!
(He runs off. She places silver posset pot on hob, and as she approaches door meets Sylvester, supported by the Negress Candace and Lenore.)
Lenore:
Carry him in and lay him in his chair.
Madam Pomeroy:
Ah, madam, you have all my sympathy.
Poor Sylvester!
