Bishop. Guard well the prisoner. [Exit Attendant, L.]
Ön the eve of war

To leave his foes unwatched-his very camp
A scene of treason; but I've laid my hand
On every loop in the net. 'Tis like the king-
Some playful hiding in a burgher suit-

king—

I thought he had been sobered. That's his step.

Enter JAMES, L.

James. Ha! my good lord-but we're unfitly geared For shrift and penance; we have rid for the life Up hill-down dale. But you look big with care. Out with it; "it will burst you."

66

Bishop. It befits

"Neither my years nor my great calling, Sir,

"Nor the meek spirit that should harbour here, "To mix in the fierce struggles in a court.

"James. I know you well. Excuse me, good my Lord,

"If, with the flippant quickness of the tongue,
"I hide the respect and deep reverence,

"Which my heart bears to the right reverend virtues
"Of meekness, truth, and most sweet gentleness,
"I've ever found in you."

Bishop. Ah, Sir! I'm old—

It may be that my time is nearly done-
But I would fain, even to the end of my life,
Bear you true service; for I've mark'd in you
Ever, from boyish days, a loving heart—
Loving, though fiery; and most merciful-
Too merciful!

"James. Nay; not so, my good Lord.

"Ill fares it with kings' swords when the sharp blade "Shines oftener in the subject's dazzled eyes,

"Than the pearl-studded heft and jewell'd sheath.

66

Bishop. There may be times when the steel blade is all

"That gives true value to the jewelled sheath."

James. How mean you? You were my preceptor, SirMost kind-most wise: but you have told me often I lack'd the bridle, not the spur.

Bishop. The bridle,

In your wild course of dalliance and deray;

The spur, in action fitting for a king.

James. Not so-by Heaven! not so. Show me the deed You'd have me do that's fitting for a king,

And, though it tore the softest string i' my heart,
I'll do it.

Bishop. Prepare you, then!

James. What is't, I say?

[Crosses to R.

You think I have no higher, nobler thoughts,
Than suit a pageant king on silken throne?
My lord, you know me not.

Bishop. What would you do

If treachery

James. Pah! you know of treachery, too. Fear not, my Lord-I'm glad 'twas only that!

Whew!-my mind's easy now. Why, my good Lord, I thought 't had been some terribler thing than that. Bishop. Than what, my liege?

James. You'll see- -you'll see; fear not.

I tell you a king's eye can see as clear

As a good bishop's. Ere three hours are fled,
There will be proof. Come to our court at nine;
You'll see some action then that fits a king;

And, as you go, send me Lord Seton.

Bishop. Seton!

No; save in keeping of the guard.

James. My Lord,

Say that again: perhaps I heard not right.

I told you to send Seton-my friend Seton

Lord Seton-and you answered something. What?
Bishop. That he's the traitor I would warn you of.
James. Seton a traitor? Seton, that I've loved
Since we were boys! Ho! Seton!-Rest you, Sir;
You shall avouch this thing.-Seton! ho! Seton!
Bishop. My liege, I've proofs.

James. What say you ?-proofs ?
Bish. Ay, proofs,

Clearer than sunlight.

Enter ATTENDANT, L.

James. With dignity.] Take our greeting, Sir,

To the Lord Seton-we would see him here.

[Exit Attendant, R.

Proofs ! and of Seton's guilt! Can it be so?
He was my friend-from five years old-so high;
We'd the same masters, played at the same games-
Coits-golf. Fool!_ fool! to think that anything
Can bind a heart. I thought his heart was mine,
His love-his life-and to desert me now! [Crosses to L.
Viper! He shall not live to laugh at me-

At the poor king that trusted. Viper-dog!

My Lord, this thing you say is full of proof?
Bishop. Ay, Sir. Be firm.

James. Firm! There's no tyrant king

That flung men's hearts to feed the beasts i' the circus; That tore men's limbs with horses for their sport;

That sent men to the tigers, and looked on

To see them quivering in the monster's claws,
Was half so firm-so pitiless!

You're here!

Enter SETON, R.

Seton. Welcome, kind liege, to Holyrood again!
James. Back-back-keep off me! We're your king,
Lord Seton !

We will be just-we were in anger late.

We're calm.-Though it should burst my heart in twain, I will be calm. [Aside.]

Seton. My liege, what means this change?

I am not used to hear so harsh a voice

From my kind master-from my friend!
James. Not that!

By heaven, we're friend to not a man on earth!
No-never more !

Seton. You are unjust to me.

You wrong me-oh, you wrong me, Sir!

James. Aside.] Oh, heaven!

That I should hear a traitor borrow thus

John Seton's voice, and look through Seton's eyes !
Now, then, my lord; what say you of this man?

Bishop. That he deceives you.

Seton. I you false-tongued-but,

Forgive me my rough speech; you wear a garb
That checks my tongue.

James. In what does he deceive?

"There's something in this change-I know not what;
"But it boots nothing, whatsoe'er it be."
You shall not to St. Ninian's; it was not
To heap up wealth for a complaining nun
I ran such ventures; risk'd my life so often-
My soul, my very soul! I would be kind,

I try to speak with kindness! [After an effort.] I aın kind—
I'm in no passion; I am calm, you see.

Well, then, if you obey not, you shall starve;

Though you come begging for a crust of bread,
Shivering across the moor, and hold your hand,
"Your withered, shaking hand, and ope your lips,
"White with despair, and want, and poverty,
"To entreat one crust-one crust to save your life.
"You shall not have it; you shall starve, and die.
"And now you understand me, what I am :"
Take your own choice! But, see how calm I am.
I'll send a friend to counsel you; he'll tell you
The sin of disobedience: Malcolm Young-

Made. Not him-not Malcolm Young!
Sir A. Why not, I pray you?

"He's a good youth, and yielded to my wish,
"And therefore you despise him." Malcolm Young
Shall give you counsel; and if he too fail,
The failure shall be visited on him;

Mark me-on him; if you refuse consent
He shall be houseless, friendless as yourself.
Now, then, the fate of both is in your hands.
"I'm calm-I'm very calm; and Malcolm Young
"Shall be a beggar if you baulk my wish.

Exit L. Made. [L. c.] "I'll hie me to the monastery door, "And ask the meek-eyed nuns to take me in; "And it shall be my grave; and the thick walls "Shall keep me from the world; and in my heart "I'll cherish him, and think on all his looks, "Since we were children-all his gentle tones; “And when my weary breast shall heave no more, "I'll lay me down and die, and name his name "With my last breath." I would we both were dead, For we should then be happy; but on earth No happiness for me-no hope, no hope!

Enter WIDOW BARTON, LAIRD SMALL, and Mungo, R.

Widow. Cousin, the gentlemen are come to see you; They've drunk your health; you should be much obliged To Mister Small. This is the lady, sir,

Your young intended.

Mun. Very well, indeed;

True Brussels lace, and-ain't it Venice silk ?

[Touches Madeleine's gown.]

I think 'tis Venice silk. I have a doublet
Of the sams piece. How goes it, pretty maid?
Laird. Gadso! he's quite a polish'd courtier.

I wish you joy-you're a most lucky woman.

Mun. She courtesys with an air; though, for my part, I like the Spanish swale, as thus, [courtesys] low, low; Not the French dip, as thus, [courtesys] dip, dip; Which think you best?

Made. Sir! did you speak to me?

Mun. Did I 'pon honour-yes, I think I did: "Some like the Austrian bend, [courtesys] d'ye like it so? "Our girls, the Hamiltons, have got it pat;

"No sooner do I say, 'Sweet Lady Jane,'

"And draw my feather so, and place my hand
"Here on my heart, Fair Lady Jane, how are ye?'
"But dip she goes, and bend [courtesys]; but if an ase,
"Some fribble she don't like, comes near her, lo!
"A swale! [courtesys] 'tis very like this gentlewomar
"I hope there's no one near you, you don't like ?
For if there is, 'fore Gad! an 'twere my father,
"I'd cut him into slices like cold ham,
"As thin as that."

Laird. "Gadso! pray Gad it ain't;

I hope it ain't his father-he would do it!" He's such a youth!

Widow. He's a most gallant man;

I like to hear about great people's doings.

Mun. Do you?-a decent woman, for the country; Then I will tell you anything you like.

"

Widow. Tell Madeleine about a tournament.

Laird. Pray do! Gadso, I love to hear your tales.
Pray Gad I could be young again!

"Mun. Hush, do: