_Has._ Is it possible! _Keep._ Wou'd you wish to see her? _Has._ If it won't give her pain. _Keep._ At least, she'll not resent it--for she seldom complains, except in moans to herself--[_Goes to the cell._] Lady, here is one come to visit all the prisoners--please to appear before him. _Has._ I thank you--you speak with reverence and respect to her. _Keep._ She has been of some note, though now so totally unfriended--at least, we _think_ she has, from her gentle manners; and our governor is in the daily expectation of some liberal ransom for her, which makes her imprisonment without a hope of release, till that day arrives--[_Going to the cell_]--Lend me your hand--you are weak. [_He leads her from the cell--she appears faint--and as if the light affected her eyes_--Haswell _pulls off his hat, and, after a pause_-- _Has._ I fear you are not in health, Lady?---- [_She looks at him solemnly for some time._ _Keep._ Speak--Madam, speak. _Pris._ No--not very well. [_Faintingly._ _Has._ Where are your friends? When do you expect your ransom? _Pris._ [_Shaking her head._] Never. _Keep._ She persists to say so; thinking by that declaration, we shall release her _without_ a ransom. _Has._ Is that your motive? _Pris._ I know no motive for a falsehood. _Has._ I was to blame--pardon me. _Keep._ Your answers are somewhat prouder than usual. [_He retires up the stage._ _Pris._ They are.--[_To_ Haswell] Forgive me--I am mild with all of these--but from a countenance like yours--I could not bear reproach. _Has._ You flatter me. _Pris._ Alas! Sir, and what have I to hope from such a meaness?--You do not come to ransom me. _Has._ Perhaps I do. _Pris._ Oh! do not say so--unless--unless--I am not to be deceived --pardon in your turn this suspicion--but when I have so much to hope for--when the sun, the air, fields, woods, and all that wonderous world, wherein I have been so happy, is in prospect; forgive me, if the vast hope makes me fear. _Has._ Unless your ransom is fixed at something beyond my power to give, I _will_ release you. _Pris._ Release me! Benevolent! _Has._ How shall I mark you down in my petition? [_Takes out his book._] what name? _Pris._ 'Tis almost blotted from my memory. [_Weeping._ _Keep._ It is of little note--a female prisoner, taken with the rebel party, and in these cells confined for fifteen years. _Pris._ During which time I have demeaned myself with all humility to my governors--neither have I distracted my fellow prisoners with a complaint that might recall to their memory their own unhappy fate--I have been obedient, patient; and cherished hope to chear me with vain dreams, while despair possess'd my reason. _Has._ Retire--I will present the picture you have given. _Pris._ Succeed too--or, never let me see you more--[_She goes up the stage._ _Has._ You never shall.