Enter Servant.
Ser. My Lord, I met e'en now, a short way off,
Your countryman the Marquis Rezenvelt.
De Mon. (Starting from his seat, and letting the cup fall from his hand.) Who, say'st thou?
Ser.Marquis Rezenvelt, an' please you.
De Mon. Thou ly'st—it is not so—it is impossible.
Ser. I saw him with these eyes, plain as yourself.
De Mon. Fool! 'tis some passing stranger thou hast seen.
And with a hideous likeness been deceiv'd.
Ser. No other stranger could deceive my sight.
De Mon. (Dashing his clenched hand violently upon the table, and overturning every thing.) Heaven blast thy sight! it lights on nothing good.
Ser. I surely thought no harm to look upon him.
De Mon. What, dost thou still insist? Him must it be?
Does it so please thee well? (Servant endeavours to speak) hold thy damn'd tongue.
By heaven I'll kill thee. (Going furiously up to him.)
Man. (In a soothing voice.) Nay harm him not, my Lord; he speaks the truth;
I've met his groom, who told me certainly
His Lord is here. I should have told you so,
But thought, perhaps, it might displease your honour.
