822.08 NG33

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1876,

By WHEAT & CORNETT,

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. D. C.

40

2-4.33 E B

THE NEW YORK,

TRAGEDIES,

A CHOICE COLLECTION

OF

COMEDIES,

WITH

FARCES, ETC..

CASTS OF CHARACTERS, STAGE BUSINESS, COSTUMES, RELATIVE POSITIONS, &c.,

ADAPTED TO

THE HOME CIRCLE, PRIVATE THEATRICALS, AND THE AMERICAN STAGE.

VOL. 2.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1876, by WHEAT & CORNETT, in the Office
of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.

NO. 13.

EXITS AND ENTRANCES.-R. means Right; L. Left; R. D. Right Door; L.

Enter LORD RANDOLPH.

Lord R. Again these weeds of woe! say, dost
thou well

To feed a passion which consumes thy life?
The living claim some duty; vainly thou
Bestow'st thy cares upon the silent dead.

Lady R. Silent, alas! is he for whom I mourn;
Childless, without memorial of his name,
He only now in my remembrance lives.
"This fatal day stirs my time-settled sorrow,
"Troubles afresh the fountain of my heart."
Lord R. "When was it pure of sadness? These

Express the wonted color of thy mind, "Forever dark and dismal. Seven long years "Are pass'd since we were join'd by sacred ties; "Clouds all the while have hung upon thy brow, "Nor broke nor parted by one gleam of joy."

D Left Door; 2 E. Second Entrance; U. E. Upper Entrance: M. D. Middle Time, that wears out the trace of deepest anguish,

Door. RELATIVE POSITIONS.-R. means Right; L. Left; C. Centre; R. C.
Right Centre; L. C. Left Centre, &c. The reader is supposed to be on the
Stage, facing the audience.

ACT I.

The Court of a Castle surrounded with Woods.
Enter LADY RANDOLPH.

Lady R. Ye woods and wilds, whose melan-
choly gloom

.Accords with my soul's sadness, and draws forth
The voice of sorrow from my bursting heart,
Farewell awhile; I will not leave you long;
For in your shades I deem some spirit dwells,
Who, from the chiding stream, or groaning oak,
Still hears and answers to Matilda's moan.
Oh, Douglas! Douglas! if departed ghosts
Are e'er permitted to review this world,
Within the circle of that wood thou art,
And with the passion of immortals hear'st
My lamentation; hear'st thy wretched wife
Weep for her husband slain, her infant lost.
My brother's timeless death I seem to mourn,
Who perished with thee on this fatal day.
To thee I lift my voice; to thee address
The plaint which mortal ear has never heard.
Oh, disregard me not; tho' I am call'd
Another's now, my heart is wholly thine.
Incapable of change, affection lies
Buried, my Douglas, in thy bloody grave.

"Vied with each other for my luckless love
"Oft I besought them, I implor'd them all
"Not to assail me with my father's aid,
"Nor blend their better destiny with mine.
"For melancholy had congeal'd my blood,
"And froze affection in my chilly breast.
"At last my sire, rous'd with the base attempt
"To force me from him, which thou rend'redst
vain,

"To his own daughter bow'd his hoary head,
"Besought me to commiserate his age,
"And vow'd he should not, could not die in peace,
"Unless he saw me wedded, and secur'd
"From violence and outrage. Then, my lord!
"In my extreme distress I call'd on thee,
"Thee I bespake, profess'd my strong desire
"To lead a single, solitary life,

"And begg'd thy nobleness not to demand
"Her for a wife, whose heart was dead to love.
"How thou persistedst after this, thou know'st,
"And must confess that I am not unjust,
"Nor more to thee than to myself injurious."
Lord R. "That I confess; yet ever must regret
Would thou wert not
"Compos'd of grief and tenderness alone,
"But hadst a spark of other passions in thee—
"Pride, anger, vanity, the strong desire
Of admiration, dear to womankind;
These might contend with and allay thy grief,

But Randolph comes, whom fate has made my "The grief I cannot cure.
lord,

To chide my anguish and defraud the dead.

"As meeting tides and currents smooth our firth." Lady R. "To such a cause the human mind oft

Owes

"Its transient calm, a calm I envy not."

"Sit down and weep the conquests he has made;
"Yea, (like a monk) sing rest and peace in
heaven
"To souls of warriors in their battles slain."

Lord R. Sure thou art not the daughter of Sir Lady, farewell; I leave thee not alone-
Malcolm!

Strong was his rage, eternal his resentment;
For when thy brother fell, he smil'd to hear
That Douglas' son in the same field was slain.

Lady R. Oh, rake not up the ashes of my fathers!
Implacable resentment was their crime,
And grievous has the expiation been.
Contending with the Douglas, gallant lives
Of either house were lost; my ancestors
Compell'd, at last, to leave their ancient seat
On Tiviot's pleasant banks; and now of them
No heir is left. Had they not been so stern,
I had not been the last of all my race.

Lord R. Thy grief wrests to its purposes my
words;

I never ask'd of thee that ardent love
Which in the breasts of fancy's children burns.
Decent affection, and complacent kindness
Were all I wish'd for; but I wish'd in vain.
Hence with the less regret my eyes behold
The storm of war that gathers o'er this land;
If I should perish by the Danish sword,
Matilda would not shed one tear the more.

Yonder comes one whose love makes duty light. [Exit.

Enter ANNA.

Anna. Forgive the rashness of your Anna's

love;

Urged by affection I have thus presum'd

To interrupt your solitary thoughts,

And warn you of the hours that you neglect,
And lose in sadness.

Lady R. So to lose my hours

Is all the use I wish to make of time.

Anna. To blame thee, lady, suits not with my

state;

But sure I am, since death first preyed on man,
Never did sister thus a brother mourn.
What had your sorrows been if you had lost,
In early youth, the husband of your heart?
Lady R. Oh!

Anna. Have I distress'd you with officious love,
And ill-tim'd mention of your brother's fate ?
Forgive me, lady, humble tho' I am,
The mind I bear partakes not of my fortune;
So fervently I love you, that to dry

Lady R. Thou dost not think so; woeful as I am, These piteous tears, I'd throw my life away.

I love thy merit and esteem thy virtues.
But whither go'st thou now?

Lord R. Straight to the camp,

Where every warrior on the tiptoe stands
Of expectation, and impatient asks
Each who arrives, if he is come to tell
The Danes are landed.

Lady R. Oh, may adverse winds

Far from the coast of Scotland drive their fleet!
And every soldier of both hosts return
In peace and safety to his pleasant home!

Lord R. Thou speak'st a woman, hear a war

rior's wish:

Right from their native land, the stormy north,
May the wind blow, till every keel is fix'd
Immovable in Caledonia's strand!
Then shall our foes repent their bold invasion,
And roving armies shun the fatal shore.

Lady R. "War I detest; but war with foreign
foes,

"Whose manners, language, and whose looks are strange,

"Is not so horrid, nor to me so hateful,

"As that with which our neighbors oft we wage.
"A river here, there an ideal line,
"By fancy drawn, divides the sister kingdoms.
"On each side dwells a people similar
"As twins are to each other; valiant both-
"Both for their valor famous through the world.
"Yet will they not unite their kindred arms,
"And, if they must have war, wage distant war,
"But with each other fight in cruel conflict.
"Gallant in strife, and noble in their ire,
"The battle is their pastime. They go forth
"Gay in the morning, as to summer sport;
"When ev'ning comes, the glory of the morn,
"The youthful warrior, is a clod of clay.
"Thus fall the prime of either hapless land,
"And such the fruit of Scotch and English wars."
Lord R. "I'll hear no more; this melody would
make

A soldier drop his sword, and doff his arms,

Lady R. What power directed thy unconscious
tongue

To speak as thou hast done? to name-
Anna. I know not;

But since my words have made my mistress
tremble,

I will speak so no more, but silent mix
My tears with hers.

Lady R. No, thou shalt not be silent.
I'll trust thy faithful love, and thou shalt be
Henceforth th' instructed partner of my woes.
But what avails it? Can thy feeble pity
Roll back the flood of never-ebbing time?
Compel the earth and ocean to give up
Their dead alive?

Anna. What means my noble mistress?
Lady R. Didst thou not ask what had my sor-
rows been?

If I in early youth had lost a husband?
In the cold bosom of the earth is lodged,
Mangled with wounds, the husband of my youth;
And in some cavern of the ocean lies
My child and his.

Anna. Oh, lady, most revered!
The tale wrapt up in your amazing words
Deign to unfold.

Lady R. Alas, an ancient feud,
Hereditary evil was the source

Of my misfortunes. Ruling fate decreed
That my brave brother should in battle save
The life of Douglas' son, our house's foe;
The youthful warriors vowed eternal friendship.
To see the vaunted sister of his friend,
Impatient Douglas to Balarmo came,
Under a borrowed name. My heart he gained;
Nor did I long refuse the hand he begged;
My brother's presence authorized our marriage.
Three weeks, three little weeks, with wings of
down,

Had o'er us flown, when my lov'd lord was called
To fight his father's battles; and with him,
In spite of all my tears, did Malcolm go.

Thy onward path, altho' the earth should gap, Oh, had I died when my lov'd husband fell!