208 DRAMATIC SCENES. 



SIR E. Dare not ! 



WILF. Some hours ago you durst not. Passion moved 



you, 



Reflection interposed, and held your arm. 

 But, should reflection prompt you to attempt it, 

 My innocence would give me strength to struggle, 

 And wrest the murderous weapon from your hand. 

 How would you look to find a peasant boy 

 Return the knife you levell'd at his heart ; 

 And ask you which in heaven would show the best, 

 A rich man's HONOUR, or a poor man's HONESTY ? 



SIR E. 'Tis plain I dare not take your life. To spare it, 

 I've endangered mine. But dread my power; 

 You know not its extent. Be warned in time ; 

 Trifle not with my feelings. Listen, Sir ! 

 Myriads of engines, which my secret working 

 Can rouse to action, now encircle you. 

 Your ruin hangs upon a thread : provoke me, 

 And it shall fall upon you. Dare to make 

 The slightest movement to awake my fears, 

 And the gaunt criminal, naked, and stake-tied, 

 Left on the heath, to blister in the sun, 

 Till lingering death shall end his agony, 

 Compared to thee, shall seem more enviable 

 Than cherubs to the damn'd. 



WILF. O, misery ! 



Discard me, Sir ! I must be hateful to you. 

 Banish me hence. I will be mute as death ; 

 But let me quit your service. 



SIR E. Never. Fool ! 



To buy this secret, you have sold yourself. 



Your movements, eyes, and, most of all, your breath, 



From this time forth are fetter'd to my will. 



COLMAN. 



