[Exit CROMWELL, R.]
Arth. Lady! deem My heart coin'd into words to thank you nothing For payment of this service.
Eliz. Sympathy
Is just as often born of happiness,
As bitter suffering of the world's contempt.
Within the magic circle of a home,
Happy and loved as mine is,
The heart is touched with pity's gentle wand
To do her lightest bidding—
But in this,
There is no kind emotion worth the name;
For I would see my school-fellow and friend
To talk old nothings, something still to us,
And look beneath the lashes of her eyes,
To learn her plaint against the selfish world,
And read her trust in Heaven—
Is she fair
As childhood promised ?—[Looking archly at Arthur.]
Do you know, I think
You love her more than cousinship demands?
Arth. Nay! she is worthy of all love.
Eliz. Well, well, sir! I shall know when I see you both together.
Exeunt ELIZABETH, R., ARTHUR, L.
SCENE II.
[1st Cut.] [2nd Grooves.]
A Hall in a Manor House.—Discovered SIR SIMON, in an easy chair, supported by servants, BASIL and FLORENCE attending.
Sir Sim. I am thy father. Would'st kill me, girl? O dear! I saw Master Stacker, the court physician that was, to-day. [Coughs.] Oh, I am very ill.