And old in villainy. Permit us try His stubbornness against the torture's force. Pris. O, gentle lady! by your lord's dear life, Which these weak hands, I swear, did ne'er assail; And by your children's welfare, spare my age! Let not the iron tear my ancient joints, And my grey hairs bring to the grave with pain. Lady Rand. Account for these; thine own they cannot be : For these, I say be stedfast to the truth; [ANNA removes the Servants and returns. I, guiltless now, must former guilt reveal. Lady Rand. O! Anna, hear!-Once more I charge thee speak The truth direct for these to me foretell And certify a part of thy narration; An instant and a dreadful death abides thee. Pris. Then, thus adjured, I'll speak to you as just As if you were the minister of heaven, Sent down to search the secret sins of men. All that I had, and then turn'd me and mine Received us there hard labour, and the skill Beneath the ford, used oft to bring within My reach whatever floating thing the stream Had caught. The voice was ceased; the person lost: But, looking sad and earnest on the waters, 1 By the moon's light I saw, whirl'd round and round, A basket soon I drew it to the bank, And nestled curious there an infant lay. Pris. He was. Lady Rand. Inhuman that thou art! How could'st thou kill what waves and tempests spared? Pris. I was not so inhuman. Lady Rand. Didst thou not? Anna. My noble mistress, you are moved too much : This man has not the aspect of stern murder; Let him go on, and you, I hope, will hear One whom distress has spited at the world, And such a man was I; a man declined, Who saw no end of black adversity: Yet, for the wealth of kingdoms, I would not Have touch'd that infant with a hand of harm. Lady Rand. Ha! dost thou say so? Then perhaps he lives! Pris. Not many days ago he was alive. Lady Rand. O God of heaven! Did he then die so lately? Pris. I did not say he died; I hope he lives. Not many days ago these eyes beheld Him, flourishing in youth, and health, and beauty. Lady Rand. Where is he now ? Pris. Alas! I know not where. Lady Rand. Oh, fate! I fear thee still. Thou riddler, speak Direct and clear; else I will search thy soul. Anna. Permit me, ever honour'd! Keen impa tience, Though hard to be restrain'd, defeats itself. To the last hour that thou didst keep the child. Pris. Fear not my faith, though I must speak my shame. Within the cradle where the infant lay Was stow'd a mighty store of gold and jewels; Tempted by which, we did resolve to hide, Our secret wealth. But God's all-seeing eye For one by one all our own children died, Meanwhile the stripling grew in years and beauty; For nature will break out: mild with the mild, |