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Mal. You know the reason, thoughtless Madeleine ! Made. I don't: I see you're changed. I know not why. Mal. Know you not I have felt the chilling hand Of the Archbishop?

Made. And that saddens you?
Dear Malcolm, do not mind my heedless talk,
I would not make you sad for all the world.


[She holds out her hand. Mal. Would you not? But-I may not take hand. Made. Why not, dear Malcolm? Take my hand, I pray you. Mal. No.

Made. Malcolm, you are not offended with me ?
I did not mean to vex you. Oh, forgive me!
I cannot bear to see you look so sad.
Will you not take my hand?


Mal. What! take your
I would-oh, Heavens-no! I'll not take your hand.
Made. And we grew up together!—and at last
You're angry
with me-
e-tell me, tell me why?
Oh! I'll do anything to please you, Malcolm;
Just take my hand, and say that you forgive me!
Mal. Madeleine, if I were to touch your hand-
If-but-I tell you-no, no, never more!

[He covers his face with his hands.

Enter JAMES, L., disguised in a common travelling dress, resisting robbers.

Rob. Down with him!

James. Easier said than done, my What, ho!

Made. Help! help!

Mal. [Rushing forward with his staff.] What! five on one Down, dogs!

And you-and you———

James. All gone-all gone! i'faith, 'Tis pleasant after-dinner exercise ; And you, brave sir—I thank you from my 'Twas nobly done-by'r lady-and a youth! Let the knaves go; they did not fight amiss. Mal. You are not hurt, sir? James. But a bump or so


[The robbers are beaten off.


On the tough head; 'tis used to such small coin.
One fellow came behind me with a staff,
Before I saw him. Let me thank you again,
For timely aid. I would I knew your name,
That I might name it in my prayers to-night.

Mal. My name is Malcolm Young, commendator
Of the St. Andrew's Church, a distant kinsman
To the owner of this ground, Sir Adam Weir.
This is Sir Adam Weir's, of Laichmont Grange.

James. Sir Adam Weir ?-a worthy gentleman.
I feel my wound is heavier than I thought:
Might I make trespass for an hour or two
On his kind nature?

Mal. This, sir, is his grandchild,

She'll bid you welcome to her kinsman's house.
James. Madam. I am a stranger in these parts,
Or surely I should, long ere this, have heard
The praises of a face so fair as yours.

Made. [In alarm.] Oh, sir, waste not the time in compliment

Pray you, come to the house.

My cousin, sir, Is skilled in liniments. Support him, Malcolm. Mal. Lean on my arm.

James. I've felt its worth before;

I hope to pay you for't some other time.

[Exeunt, L., Malcolm supporting King James. SCENE III.--A Parlour in Laichmont House.

SIR ADAM WEIR and WIDOW BARTON discovered.-Sir Adam at a table, L. c., is busy arranging a packet.Widow Barton seated, R. C., has a small pestle and mortar on her knee.

Sir A. "A messenger-a faithful messenger. "Malcolm-he is my kinsman, and a priest; "This Mungo-he's a courtier and a fool; "If Dacre knew the risk he lays on me


In traffic with these Lords, he scarce would grudge 'Name, rank, all that I claim, to pay the peril.'



If I can get these missives to the lords,

And stay this war-by the persuasive tones
Of English crowns! The risk!-the risk!—this day

A messenger must be found,-or down goes all
The fabric I have raised,-James will draw sword-
And I—but tis too horrible to think on't. [Comes forward.
Widow. I warrant, now, my uncle has some plan-
Some herb, now, with a crabbed Latin name—
To mix with this discoction.-He's so glum!
I think I'll ask him.-Uncle! Good Sir Adam!

Sir A. Ha!-oh! 'tis only you—I'm busy, niece. Where is your cousin ?-where's my Madeleine ?

Widow. I thought 'twould be about his Madeleine!
She's gone out for an hour with Malcolm Young.

Sir A. Good! I would have her hold his company
As oft as may be. He is stored with learning,
And may enrich her mind—a studious youth.
Tell her, when she returns, I wish to see her.

Sir A. I shall be ready

Widow. It's always so. These wondrous clever people Are all alike. And as for Madeleine,

They'll spoil her: I'm quite sure they'll spoil the girl
With their fine learning. I never saw any good
Come of such things. "I never knew a word
"Of any tongue but good, plain, honest Scots,
"Nor read a book, nor wrote a single line,
"And I've done very well. I wish the girl


May do as well, with all her French and Spanish”

Sir Adam, know you what it is o'clock ?
The laird will soon be here.

To give him welcome.

Widow. Is the laird a scholar?

Sir A. I do not think he is. He never aimed At scholarship.

Widow. Indeed? -so much the betterNor I.

Sir A. What, did you never ?

Widow, Never aimed

At scholarship; but I'll get ready now
To see the laird.


Sir A. And yet she was the wife-
This silly, talking, thoughtless, empty thing—
Of a brave man-a gentleman—as wise
And deep in counsel, as was e'er a man
Of Scottish blood; "ay, and he loved her too,

[Exit, R.

"And knew not, all the time they lived together,
"What a poor doll she was. 'Tis very strange;
“For she had never sense to see his worth,
"And yet she loved him too, after a sort;
"And she was proud of him—yet knew not why-"
Well; they were happy.-Why should Madeleine
Be wretched, if her husband is a fool?

I would not have her wretched-not quite wretched.
But she must wed the heir of rich Laird Small.
"Oh! she will love him,—perhaps,-as Barton did
My silly niece, her cousin. Well, I hope so."
Enter LAIRD Small, r.


Laird. Give ye good day, Sir Adam.
Sir A. Welcome, Sir,

Welcome to Laichmont Grange.

Laird. A dirty day,

Gadso―a dirty day-and a false mare.
Sir A. I hope no ill has happ'd.
Laird. A dirty day,

I tell you. As I came by Whitstone mill,
I lost the path: and-I must sell the mare,
She's a false gipsy-and walked into the ditch,
And never minded how I tugged and pulled-
She knelt down on her knees, to drink the faster,
And o'er her head-a false deceitful jade-
And into the ditch-I'll sell her for ten pounds.

Sir A. Done. I will buy her of you; fret no more.
Laird. English--the pounds were English!
Sir A. Be it so.

You're not much hurt?

Laird. No, no-not hurt; but spoilt,

My doublet splashed, and all my new white feather
Clean lost. My bonnet's like a bantam cock
Without the tail.

Sir A. I'm glad to see you here,

And have been thinking over what we said,
When last we spoke upon a certain matter
Touching us both.

Laird. Gadso! and so have I.

Sir A. You see this pictured plan, friend Small; 'tis drawn

By a cunning artist.

'Tis our two estates, The boundaries, the measurements; each field, Each tree, each ditch.

Laird. It is not possible!

Gadso? I had a friend who-let it pass-
I have forgotten--but he held the pencil,

And drew and drew-'twas marvellous how he drew.
And this is yours and mine? Gadso! gadso!--

I see.


Sir A. You see where, to the right, it bends— "Laird. Ay, 'tis the Langstone Knowe-I know it well.

"I have a flock there--thirty-five white sheep"A goodly flock.

"Sir A. And here the river runs!

"Laird. It is the Bourtree burn-the bonny burn! "Gadso! he's a rare hand, the planner on't."

Sir A. If the estates were joined, and one sole man Could ride round both, and call them all his own,


Here following up the river to the north,

"The hill along the east, and to the south

"And west the king's high-road"—what say you, friend?
Laird. Gadso! 'twere a most pleasant ride. Gadso!
'Twould be a square.
I would it could be done.

Sir A. It may be done.
Laird. I cannot sell the lands-
Moss-Holm is fast entailed-

Sir A. Upon your son,

Laird. Hoo! Gadso! he's a youth! I say, a youth. I'll say no more: there was a friend of mine

Looked on him once, and said, “Friend Small,” he said, "Your son is such a youth!" And so he isHe's such a youth.

Sir A. I've never had the pleasure To see him yet.

Laird. Oh! he is well worth seeing; "A goodly youth-not tall, not very tall"But stout-exceeding stout-and waits at court—' A courtly gentleman; the King admires him, And loves him much--a very proper man, My son, young Mungo Small.

Sir A. I doubt it not;

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