Excerpt from Mazeppa, or the Wild Horse of Tartary: A Romantic Drama, in Three Acts

No answer? [cassimer conceals himself behind a buttress, L.] By the uncertain glimpses of the moon, I can distinguish no one - all is silent-spit could have been but the wind sighing. Among these ancient battlements whistling along them, as it does through my ribs, which (by the time they keep me on' the waich)l suppose they think as tough and as weatherproof as the walls themselves. 1 shall take the liberty of making free with the porter's fire, in the hall, for a few moments.

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