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Miscellanies

By John Armstrong ... In Two Volumes

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 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
SCENE III.
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
 VII. 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
 X. 
 XI. 

SCENE III.

STRENI.
There's mischief in the wind.
He slipt abruptly from me, after some
Ambiguous words, which then I did not mark.
They've surely met. That reconcilement was
A sham to blind me. I remember now
At shaking hands they whisper'd something.—Death!
I might have guess'd it. But who could have dreamt
He would have been so mad? What, in the name
Of all that's blundering, could provoke a man
Of courage so well proved, at such a time

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To meet a foe whose challenge at any time
He might more to his dignity refuse?
Curse on his ill-tim'd valour!—I hope he's kill'd.
By heaven I care not! Such romantic fools
Should have no friends, and when they fall deserve
No pity.—Gods! will none come breathless in
To tell me he lies cold?—Here comes the tale.
Out with it—speak—the worst at once.