s rolling eye,
On death, corruption, on the hoary tomb,
Or the fresh earth-mould of a new-made grave,
On gaping wounds, on strife,--the pantomime
Of lying lips, and pale, deceitful faces--
Ay! searching every scene of rank pollution,
In each foul corner busy as at play,
With new horror gilding vice, disease, decay,
Boast not, pale moon! to me thy harlot ray!

[_Enter WILLIAM, R._]

_Will._ Sir, they come!
Your collar is unfasten'd and your hair disorder'd.
Let me--[_Attempts to adjust AUTHUR'S dress._]

_Arth._ Heed it not! I thought you knew me better.

_Will._ Just a moment.--

_Arth._ No! yet will I meet her softly.
She is the only creature of her sex,
For whom I feel some kindness; 'tis because
I knew her ere I knew the world beside,
And all the lie of passion, that is nurs'd
For long in early blighted hearts alone,
Whom rank possession of the thing they pin'd for,
Had cured in one short month.--Well, I'll be kind,
Nay more, affectionate--

[_Enter FLORENCE and BARBARA, R. He salutes her distantly._]

Fair mistress, thus
I claim a young acquaintance, that hath grown
Old in long absence.

_Flor._ [_Rushing to him_] Arthur! dearest. Arthur!
How strange! Dear cousin! Sir! I wish'd to see you,
Needing protection--nay! I was to blame,
Too hasty, you must think me bold indeed!

_Arth._ [_Aside_] Is all her nature, art?--How beautiful!
[_Aloud._] Dear Florence. [_Attempts to take her hand warmly,
she bows._] I have scarcely words to speak.
Cousin! I'll be your champion. [_Aloud._]

_Flor._ There is nought
In which you can assist me? I have come
Here, cousin, to entreat you, take this money.
Indeed, you can repay me quite soon, when
Your brother is more just. It is for him
That I would give it--

_Arth._ For him? yes! you are
Betroth'd?

_Flor._ My father wills so--

_Arth._ I need not
This money--

_Flor._ Cousin, take it. You are proud.
Will you refuse me?

_Arth._ 'Tis my character
To doubt your sex, and yet from you I'd take it,
But that I need it not in truth.

_Flor._ Why doubt us?
Ah! cousin, I have heard you have been wild,
And so think women false, as you deceive them.

_Arth._ That you have heard is false!

_Flor._ I thought so. Now
I could indeed imagine it were true.
Because, perchance, you've lightly won some hearts,
Thus you must be severe and scoff at all,
As if you had good reason!--It is proof
Of an ungenerous mind or scatter'd heart.