Aust. Not so, my lord; mine is no priestly pride:

   When I put off the habit of the world,

   I had lost all that made it dear to me,

   And shook off, to my best, its heat and passions.

   But can I hold in horror this ill deed,

   And dress my brow in false approving smiles?

   No: could I carry lightning in my eye,

   Or roll a voice like thunder in your ears,

   So should I suit my utterance to my thoughts,

   And act as fits my sacred ministry.

 Count. O father! did you know the conflict here;

   How love and conscience are at war within me;

   Most sure, you would not treat my grief thus harshly.

[pg 28]

[pg 28]

   I call the saints to witness, were I master,

   To wive the perfect model of my wish,

   For virtue, and all female loveliness,

   I would not rove to an ideal form,

   But beg of Heaven another like Hortensia.——

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