To gloomy pause, and gaping reverence:

   While all my woes, to their perverted sense,

   Seem but the marvellous accomplishment

   Of revelation, out of nature's course.

 Fab. Reason must so interpret. Good my lord,

   What answer was return'd to Godfrey's challenge?

 Count. Defiance.

 Fab. Heaven defend you!

 Count. Heaven defend me!

   I hope it will, and this right arm to boot.

   But, hark! I hear a noise.—Perhaps my people

   Have found the fugitive.—Haste! bid them enter.

 [Exit Fabian. 

Fabian

   She eyed me with abhorrence; at the sound

   Of love—of marriage, fled indignant from me.

[pg 11]

[pg 11]

   Yet must I win her: should she meet my wish,

   Godfrey would prop the right he strives to shake,

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