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Dryden, John, 1631-1700

"The works of John Dryden, $c now first collected in eighteen volumes. $p Volume 02"

What are you?
_Ang_. A poor boy.
_Man_. Do you belong to Rodorick?
_Ang_. Yes, I do.
_Man_. Here's money for you; tell me where's his
sister?
_Ang_. Just now I met her coming down the stairs,
Which lead into the garden.
_Man_. 'Tis well; leave me
In silence.
_Ang_. With all my heart; was ever such a 'scape?
[_Exit running_.
_Man_. She cannot now be long; sure by the moons shine
I shall discover her:
_Enter_ RODORICK _and_ JULIA.
This must be she; I'll seize her.
_Jul_. Help me, Roderick.
_Rod_. Unhand the lady, villain.
_Man_. Roderick!
I'm glad we meet alone; now is the time
To end our difference.
_Rod_. I cannot stay.
_Man_. You must.
_Rod_. I will not.
_Man_. 'Tis base to injure any man; but yet
Tis far more base, once done, not to defend it.
_Rod_. Is this an hour, for valiant men to fight?
They love the sun should witness what they do;
Cowards have courage, when they see not death;
And fearful hares, that sculk in forms all day,
Yet fight their feeble quarrels by the moonlight.
_Man_. No; light and darkness are but poor distinctions
Of such, whose courage comes by fits and starts.
_Rod_. Thou urgest me above my patience;
This minute of my life was not my own,
But hers, I love beyond it.


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