_Julia._----Gentle sir,
You are our captive--but we'll use you so,
That you shall think your prison joys may match
Whate'er your liberty hath known of pleasure.
_Roderick._
No, fairest, we have trifled here too long;
And, lingering to see your roses blossom,
I've let my laurels wither.
OLD PLAY.
Arrayed in garments of a mourning colour, and of a fashion more
matronly than perhaps altogether befitted her youth--plain to an
extremity, and devoid of all ornament, save her rosary--Eveline
now performed the duty of waiting upon her wounded deliverer; a
duty which the etiquette of the time not only permitted, but
peremptorily enjoined. She was attended by Rose and Dame Gillian.
Margery, whose element was a sick-chamber, had been already
despatched to that of the young knight, to
