Clarion, Lionel, Karol.
Cla. O', here is Karol! was not that the sad
Shep'herd, slip'd from him?
Lio. Yes, I guess it was:
Who was that left you, Karol? Kar. The last Man!
Whom we shall never see himself again;
Of ours, I fear! He starts away from hand so,
Andd all the touches, or soft stroke of reason!
Ye can apply. No Colt is so unbroken!
Or Hawk yet half so haggard, or unmann'd!
He takes all toies that his wild phantsie proffers,
And flies away with them. He now conceives
That my lost Sister, his Earine,
Is lately turn'd a Sphere amid the Seven:
And reads a Musick-Lecture to the Planets!
And with this thought he's run to call'em hearers!
Cla. Alas, this is a strain'd, but innocent phant'sie!
I'll follow him, and find him if I cna:
Mean time, go you with Lionel, sweet Karol;
He will acquaint you with an accident
Which much desires your presence, on the place!