That bears th' frost in its heart. The bud is fair;
The strength to bloom is wanting; so it dies
But come, we shall be late.
GODFREY.
What crowds are going!
And Irishmen!—Are these so fond of Justice?
MARGRAVE.
Ay; where they feel she holds an even scale,
And is the friend alike of rich and poor,
They yield a prompt obedience, and become