Page:A Series of Plays on the Passions Volume 3.pdf/57

Like the curb'd courser list'ning to the chase,
Who paws, and frets, and bites the rein. Trust none
To cross thy gentle, but most princely purpose,
Who hath on head a circling helmet wore,
Or ever grasp'd a glave.—But ne'ertheless
There is—I know a man.—Might I be bold?

Or. Being so honest, boldness is your right.

Theo. Permitted then, I'll say, I know a man,
Tho' most unworthy Orra's Lord to be,
Who, as her champion, friend, devoted soldier,
Might yet commend himself; and, so received,
Who would at her command, for her defence
His sword right proudly draw. An honour'd sword,
Like that which at the gate of Paradise
From steps prophane the blessed region guarded.

Or. Thanks to the gen'rous knight! I also know
The man thou would'st commend; and when my state
Such service needeth, to no sword but his
Will I that service owe.

Theo. Most noble Orra! greatly is he honour'd;
And will not murmur that a higher wish,
Too high, and too presumptuous, is represt.

(Kissing her hand with great respect.)

Or. Nay, Rodolph Hartman, clear that cloudy brow,
And look on Falkenstein and on myself,
As two co-burghers of thy native city,
(For such I mean ere long to be,) and claiming