Freb. [Shaking his head.] Ah! no, De Monfort!
something in thy face

Tells me another tale. Then wrong me not;
If any secret grief distract thy soul,

Here am I all devoted to thy love;

Open thy heart to me. What troubles thee?

De Mon. I have no grief; distress me not, my

friend.

Freb. Nay, do not call me so.

friend,

Wert thou my

Wouldst thou not open all thine inmost soul,
And bid me share its every consciousness?

De Mon. Freberg, thou know'st not man; not na-
ture's man,

But only him, who, in smooth studied works
Of polish'd sages, shines deceitfully

In all the splendid foppery of virtue.

That man was never born, whose secret soul,
With all its motley treasure of dark thoughts,
Foul fantasies, vain musings, and wild dreams,
Was ever opened to another's scan.

Away, away! it is delusion all.

Freb. Well, be reserved then, perhaps I'm wrong.
De Mon. How goes the hour?

Freb. 'Tis early; a long day is still before us,
Let us enjoy it. Come along with me;

I'll introduce you to my pleasant friend!
De Mon. Your pleasant friend?
Freb. Yes, him of whom I spake.

[Taking his hand.

There is no good I would not share with thee,
And this man's company, to minds like thine,
Is the best banquet-feast I could bestow.
But I will speak in mystery no more:
It is thy townsman, noble Rezenvelt.

[DE MONFORT pulls his hand hastily from
FREBERG, and shrinks back.

Ha! What is this? Art thou pain-stricken, Monfort?

Nay, on my life, thou rather seem'st offended;
Does it displease thee that I call him friend !
De Mon. No, all men are thy friends.

Freb, No, say not all men. But thou art offended.
I see it well. I'thought to do thee pleasure;
But if his presence is not welcome here,
He shall not join our company to-day.

De Mon. What dost thou mean to say? What is't

to me

Whether I meet with such a thing as Rezenvelt
To-day, to-morrow, every day, or never?

Freb. In truth, I thought you had been well with

him.

He praised you much.

De Mon. I thank him for his praise-Come, let us

move:

This chamber is confined and airless grown.

I hear a stranger's voice?

Freb. 'Tis Rezervelt.

Let him be told that we are gone abroad.

[Starting.

De Mon. [Proudly.] No! let him enter. Who waits there? Ho! Manuel!

Enter MANUEL.

What stranger speaks below?

Man. The Marquis Rezenvelt.
I have not told him that you are within.

De Mon. [Angrily.] And wherefore didst thou not?

Let him ascend.

[A long pause. DE MONFORT walking up
and down with a quick pace.

Enter REZENVELT, and runs freely up to DE
MONFORT.

Rez. [To DE MONFORT.] My noble marquis, wel

come!

De Mon. Sir, I thank you.

Rez. [To FREBERG.] My gentle friend, well met. Abroad so early?

Freb. It is indeed an early hour for me. How sits thy last night's revel on thy spirits? Rez. O, light as ever. On my way to you, E'en now, I learnt De Monfort was arrived, And turned my steps aside; so here I am.

[Bowing gaily to DE MONFORT. De Mon. I thank you, sir; you do me too much [Proudly. Rez. Nay, say not so; not too much honour,

honour.

surely,

Unless, indeed, 'tis more than pleases you.

De Mon. [Confused.] Having no previous notice of your coming,

I look'd not for it.

Rez. Ay, true, indeed; when I approach you next, I'll send a herald to proclaim my coming; And bow to you by sound of trumpet, marquis. De Mon. [To FREBERG, turning haughtily from REZENVELT with affected indifference.] How does your cheerful friend, that good old man? Freb. My cheerful friend? I know not whom you

mean.

De Mon. Count Waterlan.

Freb. I know not one so named.

De Mon. [Very confused]. O pardon me--it was at Bâle I knew him.

Freb. You have not yet enquired for honest Reisdale.

I met him as I came, and mention'd you.

He seem'd amazed; and fain he would have learnt What cause procured us so much happiness.

He question'd hard, and hardly would believe;

I could not satisfy his strong desire.

Rez. And know you not what brings De Monfort here?

Freb. Truly, I do not.

Rez. O! 'tis love of me.

I have but two short days in Amberg been,
And here with postman's speed he follows me,
Finding his home so dull and tiresome grown.
Freb. [To DE MONFORT.] Is Rezervelt so sadly
missed with you?

Your town so changed?

De Mon. Not altogether so :

Some witlings and jest-mongers still remain
For fools to laugh at.

Rez. But he laughs not, and therefore he is wise,
He ever smiles on them with sullen brow
Contemptuous; therefore he is very wise.
Nay, daily frets his most refined soul
With their poor folly, to its inmost core;
Therefore he is most eminently wise.

Freb. Fie, Rezenvelt! You are too early gay; Such spirits rise but with the evening's glass: They suit not placid morn.

[TO DE MONFORT, who, after walking impatiently up and down, comes close to his ear, and lays hold of his arm.

What would you, Monfort?

De Mon. Nothing-Yet, what is't o'clock ?

No, no-I had forgot-'tis early still.

[Turns away again.

Freb. [To REZEN VELT.] Waltser informs me that

you have agreed

To read his verses o'er, and tell the truth:

It is a dangerous task.

Rez. Yet I'll be honest:

I can but lose his favour and a feast.

[Whilst they speak, DE MONFORT walks up and down impatiently and irresolute; at last, pulls the bell violently.

Enter a SERVANT.

De Mon. [TO SERVANT.] What dost thou want?

Serv. I thought your honour rung.

De Mon. I have forgot-Stay; are my horses saddled?

Serv. I thought, my lord, you would not ride today,

After so long a journey.

De Mon. [Impatiently.] Well-'tis good. Begone! I want thee not.

[Exit SERVANT.

Rez. Smiling significantly.] I humbly crave your pardon, gentle marquis.

It grieves me that I cannot stay with you,
And make my visit of a friendly length.
I trust your goodness will excuse me now;
Another time I shall be less unkind.

TO FREBERG.] Will you not go with me?
Freb. Excuse me, Monfort, I'll return again.

[Exeunt REZENVELT and FREBERG, De Mon. [Alone, tossing his arms distractedly.] Hell hath no greater torment for th' accursed

Than this man's presence gives-
Abhorred fiend! he hath a pleasure too,
A damned pleasure, in the pain he gives!
Oh! the side glance of that detested eye!
That conscious smile! that full insulting lip!
It touches every nerve: it makes me mad.
What, does it please thee? Dost thou woo my hate?
Hate shalt thou have! determined, deadly hate,
Which shall awake no smile. Malignant villain !
The venom of thy mind is rank and devilish,
And thin the film that hides it.

Thy hateful visage ever spoke thy worth:
I loath'd thee when a boy.

That should be besotted with him thus !
And Freberg likewise so bewitched is,
That, like a hireling flatterer, at his heels
He meanly paces, offering brutish praise.
O! I could curse him to..

[Ex.