Lord Rand. Sure thou art not the daughter of Sir Malcolm: Strong was his rage, eternal his resentment : Implacable resentment was their crime, Lord Rand. Thy grief wrests to its purposes my words. I never asked of thee that ardent love, Which in the breasts of fancy's children burns. Lady Rand. Thou dost not think so: woeful as I am, I love thy merit, and esteem thy virtues. Lord Rand. Straight to the camp, Lady Rand. O! 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 Rand. Thou speak'st a woman's, hear a warrior's wish: Right from their native land, the stormy north, May the wind blow, till every keel is fix'd Immoveable in Caledonia's strand! Then shall our foes repent their bold invasion, And roving armies shun the fatal shore. Lady Rand. 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 which with our neighbours oft we wage. A river here, there an ideal line, By fancy drawn, divides the sister kingdoms. As twins are to each other; valiant both: A soldier drop his sword, and doff his arms, Yea, (like a monk) sing rest and peace in heaven Lady, farewell: I leave thee not alone; [Exit. Enter ANNA. Anna. Forgive the rashness of your Anna's love: Urged by affection, I have thus presumed To interrupt your solitary thoughts; And warn you of the hours that you neglect, Lady Rand. 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 prey'd on man, What had your sorrows been if you had lost, Anna. Have I distress'd you with officious love, These piteous tears, I'd throw my life away. Lady Rand. What power directed thy uncon scious 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 her's. Lady Rand. No, thou shalt not be silent. Anna. What means my noble mistress? Lady Rand. Didst thou not ask what had my sorrows been, If I in carly 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. O! lady, most revered! The tale wrapt up in your amazing words Lady Rand. Alas! an ancient feud, |