Should we not buy off enemies like these?”
So pass’d the evening in a quiet way, 170
When, lo! the morning of the parting day.
Each to the table went with clouded look,
And George in silence gazed upon a book;
Something that chance had offer’d to his view—
He knew not what, or cared not, if he knew.
Richard his hand upon a paper laid—
His vacant eye upon the carpet stray’d;
His tongue was talking something of the day,