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CAPTAIN OF THE WATCH,
THE IRON CHEST,
THE GOOD FOB NOTHING,
LOVE AND BAIN,
FOLLIES OF A NIGHT,
MY UNCLE'S WILL,
WHICH IS WHICH,
SATIN L\ PABIS,
THE ABSENT MAN,
TWO GENTLEMEN IN A FIX,
DON (VESAR DE BAZAN,
HIS LAST LEGS,
LOCKED IN WITH A LADY,
TWO TO ONE,
CHARLES THE SECOND,
RIP VAN WINKLE,
HI8 OWN ENEMY,
THE TWO ORPHANS,
A FAIBY'S FATHER,
A SILENT WOMAN,
THE LOVE CHASE,
BBOWN THE MABTYB,
PALACE OF TBUTH,
WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME,
"TAMING A TIGER,
THE BLOW IN THE DABK.
Entered according to Act of Congrena, in the year 187<>. Uy WHEAT A CORNETT, In the Office of the Librarian of Congn-HH, ut Warrington. D.
J "That which pleases long, and pleases many, must possess some merit."—Or. Johnson. 1
Casts Of Characters, Stage Business, Costumes, Relative Positions. &c.:
Jhe flOME £lRCLE, pRIVATE J HEyATRICyALS, /ND THE ^\me*r.ic/*n ^TAqE. J
Eaterod according to Act of Congress, In the year 1876, by Wheat A Oormctt, In the Office
of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. (*.
The Court of a Castle surrounded with Woods.
Enter Lady Randolph.
Lady R. Ye woods and wilds, whose melau
. Accords with my soul's sadness, and draws forth
The voice of sorrow from my hursting 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.
But Randolph comes, whom fate has made
- To chide my anguish and defraud the dead.
Enter Loud Randolph. Lord R. Again these weeds of woe! say, dost thou well
To feed a passion which consumes thy life T
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 black weeds "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 tho while have hung upon thy brow, I" Nor broke nor parted by one gleam of joy." Time, that wears out the traco of deepest anguish, "As the sea smooths the prints made in the sand," Has past o'er thee in vain.
Lady R. "If time to come "Should prove as ineffectual, yet, my lord, "Thou canst not blame me. When our Scottish youth
"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 mo to commiserate his age,
"And vow'd ho should not, could not die in peace,
"Unless he saw mo 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."
LordR. "That I confess; yet ever must regret "The grief I cannot cure. 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,
"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."
Lord R. Sure thou art not the daughter of Sir
Strong was his rage, eternal his resentment;
For when thy brother fell, he smil'd to bear
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 aneestois
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 stei n,
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 1 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.
Lady R. Thou dost not think so; woeful as I am,
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 warrior'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
"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.
"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." Lady, farewell; I leave thee not alone— Yonder comes one whose love makes dutv light.
Anna. Forgive the rashness of your Anna's
Urged by affection I have thus presum'd
To interrupt your solitary thoughts,j
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
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 earlv vouth, the husband of your heart i
Anna. Have I distress'd you with officious love,
And ill-tim'd mention of your brother's fate f
Forgive me, lady, humble tho" I am,
The mind I bear partakes not of my fortune;
So fervently I love you, that to dry
These piteous tears, I'd throw my life away.
Lady R. What power directed thy unconscious
To speak as thou hast done? to name—
Anna. I know not;
But since my words have made my mistress
I will speak so no more, but silent mix
My tears with hers.
Lady R. No, thou shall 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
Boll back the flood of never-ebbing time
Compel the earth and ocean to give up
Their dead alive f
Anna. What means my noble mistress?
Lady R. Didst thou not ask what had my sor-
If I in early youth had lost a husband i
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, mest 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 brothel 's presence authorized our marriage.:
Three weeks, three little weeks, with wings of , ♦
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. *
Scarce were thev gone, when mv stern sire was
That the false stranger was Lord Douglas' son.
Frantic with rage the baron drew his sword,
And questioned me.' Alone, forsaken, faint,
Kneeling beneath his sword, falt'ring I took
An oath equivocal, that I ne'er would
Wed one of Douglas' name. Sincerity,
Thou first of virtues, let no mortal leave
Thy onward path, altho' the earth should gap,
And from the gulf of hell destruction cry
To take dissimulation's winding way!
Anna. Alas, how few of woman's fearful kind
Durst own a truth so hardy!
Lady R. The first truth
Is easiest to avow. This moral learn,
This precious moral, from my tragic tale—
In a few days the dreadful tidings came,
That Douglas and my brother both were slain.
My lord, my life, my husband! Mighty heaven!
What had I done to merit such affliction f
Anna. My dearest lady, many a tale of tears
I've listen'd to; but never did I hear
A tale so sad as this.
Lady R. In the first days
Of my distracting grief, I found myself—
As women wish to be who love their lords.
But who durst tell my father? The good priest
Who joined our hands, my brother's ancient tutor,
With his lov'd Malcolm in the battle fell;
They two alone were privy to the marriage.
On silence and concealment I resolved,*
Till time should make my father's fortune mine.
That very night on which my son was born,
My nurse, the only confidant I had,
Set out with him to reach her sister's house;
But nurse nor infant have I ever seen
Or heard of, Anna, since that fatal hour.
"My murdered child! had thy fond mother fear'd
"The loss of thee, she had loud fame defied,
"Despised her father's rage, her father's grief,
"And wander'd with thee thro' the scorning
Anna. Not seen nor heard off then perhaps he
Lady R. No. It was dark December; wind
Had beat all night. Across the Carron lay
The destined road, and in its swelling flood
My faithful servant perish'd with my child.
"Oh, hapless son of a most hapless sire!
But they are both at rest; and I alone
'• Dwell in this world of woe, condemned to walk
"Like a guilt-troubled ghost, my painful rounds;"
Nor has despiteful fate permitted me
The comfort of a solitary sorrow.
Tho' dead to love, I was compelled to wed
Randolph, who snatched me from a villain's arms;
And Randolph now possesses the domains
That by Sir Malcolm's death on me devolv'd;
Domains that should to Douglas' son have giv'n
A baron's title, and a baron's power.
"Such were my soothing thoughts while I be-
"The slaughter'd father of a son unborn.
"And when that son came, like a ray from heav'u
"Which shines and disappears; alas, my child!
"How long did thy fond mother grasp the hope • The deed's a-doing now that makes me lord
"Of having thee, she knew not how, restored. Of these rich valleys, and a chief of power.
"Year after vear hath worn her hope away: The season is most apt; my sounding steps
.. - ... - - - TTT'll A 1 1 1 . . '1 .. . * 1. . . P
Anna. "The hand that spins th' uneven thread of life,
"May smooth the length that's yet to come of yours."
Lady R. "Not in this world; I have consider'd well
"It's various evils, and on whom they fall. "Alas, how oft does goodness wound itself, "And sweet affection prove the spring of woe 1" Oh, had I died when my lov'd husband fell! Had some good angel op'd to me the book Of providence, and let me read my life, My heart had broke when I beheld the sum j Of ills, which one by one I have endur'd.
Anna. That power whose ministers good angels
Hath shut the book in mercy to mankind.
But we must leave this theme; Glenalvon comes;
I saw him bend on you his thoughtful eyes,
And hitherwards he slowly stalks his way.
Lady R. I will avoid him. An ungracious
Is doubly irksome in an hour like this.
Anna. Why speaks my lady thus of Randolph's
Lady R. Because he's not the heir of Randolph's
Subtle and shrewd, he offers to mankind
An artificial image of himself;
And he with ease can vary to the taste
Of different men, it's features. "Self-denied,
"And master of his appetites he seems;
"But his fierce nature, like a fox chain'd up,
"Watches to seize unseen the wished-for prey.
"Never were vice and virtue pois'd so ill,
"As in Glenalvon's unrelenting mind."
Yet is he brave and politic in war,
And stands aloft in these unruly times.
Why I describe him thus I'll tell hereafter;
Stav and detain him till I reach the castle.
Anna. Oh, happiness! where art thou to be
I see thou dwellest not with birth and beauty,
Tho' grac'd with grandeur and in wealth array'd;
Nor dost thou, it would seem, with virtue dwell,
Else had this gentle lady miss'd thee not.
Glen. What dost thoumuse on, meditating maid?
Like some entranced and visionary seer
On earth thou stand'st, thy thoughts ascend to
Anna. Would that I were, e'en as thou say'st,
To have my doubts by heav'nly vision clear'd!
Glen. What dost thou doubt off what hast
thou to do
With subjects intricate? Thy youth, thy beauty,
Cannot be *iuestion'd; think of these good gifts,
And then thy contemplations will be pleasing.
Anna. Let women view yon monuments of woe,
Then boast of beauty; who so fair as she i
But I must fellow; this revolving day
Awakes the memory of her ancient woes. [Exit.
Glen. So! Lady Randolph shuns me! by-and-bye
I'll woo her as the lion woos his brides.