66

You keep the ladies waiting. Well, fair dames, "The trick is this: James sends to Hume and me, "And Seton, and some other cavaliers,

"That he will keep the ring against all comers,
"And Cassilis, Maxwell, Eglinton, and others-
"A famous tilter is Lord-Eglinton,

"And noble heart as beats on Scottish ground-
They send that they will come !
"Laird. Gadso!-gadso!"

I knew a Spanish man-I think his name
Was Don-but what comes after Don-go on-

Mun. [To Made.] But you don't like to hear of broken

bones!

Widow. She does, indeed! and I delight in it;

I've got a dozen cures for broken bones.

66

Mun. Well, then, the day arrives; we take our places; James in the centre, Sinclair and myself,

"Full arm'd, with spear in rest, and visors down,

66

"On his right hand; Hume and Lord Seton ride
Upon his left. All round us sits the court:
"The ladies' cheeks all flush'd, or pale by turns,
"As we take one stout gallop round the ring.
The trumpet sounds four notes-ta! ra! ta! ra!—
"And sudden at the further end appear

"Five knights in armor. With their lances' points

66

They touch our shields-I should have said our shields "Hang at the gate--Ha, ha, boys!-is it so?"

Spur goes the steed!--my shield is ringing yet
From Maxwell's touch: I brace it on my arm.
The trumpet sounds again-ta! ra! ta! ra!-
We stoop our heads--we bend us to the mane,-
My spear goes into splinters on his mail.

And, ha !--what's that ?--poor Maxwell reels awhile
Then plump upon the earth-I've done for him.
Laird. Gadso! I'm in a sweat--a parlous arm-

You would not think it, ma'am, to look at him!

Widow. Oh! he's a valiant knight. And rides the king Like other men?

Mun. He ought to ride as well

He's been well taught! I broke his chesnut horse,

That was too hard to manage: he rides well

Yes, pretty well! I don't like his rein hand,

He holds it far too low; but he rides well.

"[To Madeleine.] You're not alarmed at what I'm speak ing of?

"Tis all in sport; if 'twere in earnest, ma'am,
"I'd split Lord Maxwell as he were a herring,
"Were he the biggest knight in Christendom."
Widow. And do the ladies scream?

Mun. Sometimes they do.

Once! 'twas at Sterling-James was in the ring,
And ran with-but I will not mention names-
The man he ran with, was-but never mind :
James came full speed-I never saw a horse
Spring better; every breath was hushed with fear:
The other man, he rode a Spanish barb,

Light, fiery, active; and when James came on
With lifted sword, I spurred on the right side,
Jinked so; and—as he passed, with a back hand,
Clipt his white plume-there was a scream heard then!
Widow. Was't you? were you the man?

Mun. Ha! said I so?

Then it was I!

Laird. Gadso! he's such a boy!

I can't make out where he has learned such arts;
For ere he went to court, two months ago,

He could not stick upon a pony's back,

And would have sooner died than draw a sword!

Widow. People get wondrous knowledge in a court. Laird. Gadso! you're right. [To Madeleine.] I think you

never saw

As if you scarcely heard what we've been saying.
Made, What is it you would say? I pray you, sir,
To tell me what you want? I would begone.

Laird. Speak to her, Mungo; Gadso! he's a tongue Makes way with women.

Mun. Don't look at us, then ;

They're very bashful, these poor country girls.

Laird. [To Widow.] Gadso!-pray, ma'am, walk aside with me;

He's such a boy! pray Gad you've such a boy!
Widow. I, Sir?

Laird. If you should wed-come this way, ma'am.
[Exeunt Laird and Widow, L.

Mun. They're gone! we're quite alone! you may speak

out

I see you've been impatient to get rid

Of the old twaddles. Don't be timid, now;

There!--don't be shy--you never saw in your life,
A man of the court before!

Made. Oh, leave me, Sir!

"If you were man--but you are not a man— "Or gentleman--or even the thing you seem, "A courtier, you would leave me.

Leave me, sir!"

Mun. What! when so many robbers are abroad? What if that villain, Buckie of Drumshorlan, Forced his way in, and I not here to guard you? Made. I care not though he came.

Mun. Oh, don't you, though?

No wonder. You need care for nothing now,
When I am here. They say the rascal wears
A great wolf's head, and looks with dreadful eyes
Under its gaping jaws! What step was that?

Enter SERVANT, L.

Serv. Sir, there are strangers seen about the groundsWe think they're Buckie's band. Pursue them, sir! Mun. Pursue them ?-hark, friend; have you e'er a gar

ret

In this old house?

Serv. Yes, sir.

Mun. I've such a sight!

I see a hare in her seat!

This way; are these the stairs? the general

Stands always on a hill.

Serv. I cannot wait.

I'll watch the rogues,

[Exit, R.

[Runs off, L.

Mun. Hem! well-she never looks at me-here goes!

Enter MALCOLM Young, r.

Mal. Your grandsire bids me see you, Madeleine ;

Made. Malcolm !

Mal. I never wished to see you more. If we had parted-when we parted last-In kindness, I would never more have sought Your presence; never heard your voice again. But when you asked my hand, I-I-believe me, 'Twas from no change, no want of true affection-'Twas from--'twas--will you take my hand now, Made

leine?

Where I shall see you never-never more :

I

go to hide my sorrows.

Made. Malcolm !

Mal. Pray you,

Let me but say farewell-but do not speak-
Once I could dwell on every word you said,
And treasure it like a sweet cherished tune,
To be conned over in my solitude;

But now, I would not hear your voice, nor see
Your smile-

Made. You will not see me smile again!
Mal. I cannot bear to look upon your face,
Where I have fed my eyes, dear Madeleine;
Do you remember two long years ago,

When I was leaving Laichmont, how we walked
To the Green Den, and how you stooped and gathered
Beside the burn, a sprig of blooming heath?

Made. Yes!

Mal. Here it is! I've had it near my heart
Since then; and both are withered. Madeleine,
I asked you not to speak, but I am changeful;
I'd hear your voice again, for the last time!
Say but a word!

Made. Oh, Malcolm !

Mal. "Shall I say

"How constantly my thoughts shall rest on you?

Ah, Madeleine! when we used-long, long ago"To look up to the moon, as we do now,

"It was with happier eyes.

I little knew

"What memories of grief I gathered then,

To feed on in my heart for evermore ;"

And now!-God's blessing be around you ever!

The blessing of a heart that-fare-you-well! [Crosses, L.
Made. Malcolm! you leave me, it is come at last;
See! I can bear our parting: thus is broke
The chain that linked us from our infancy.
And here-it is the last time we shall meet
On this cold earth-though we shall meet again
There, where the stars are shining calm and clear !—
And we are dead to one another, Malcolm!
Take with you to your solitude, the thought
That I-oh, pardon, Heav'n! if it is sin-
Have never loved but you-love only you!

Mal. What! heard I right? You loved me? love me?
Heavens !

This is too much to bear. My fondest hopes
Reached not so high. I was an orphan, poor,
Unfriended; I but dared to think of you
As of some higher nature, till the veil

Fell from my heart, and—when the vow was spoken,
And I was- -what I am- -I knew I loved!

“Oh, but to dare to love !-though without hope !—
"To dare to love, and feel it is no crime!"

Dearest!-I know not what I say-once more
Tell me you love me-no, no! tell me not!
It turns to poison on your lip, and kills.

Made. Malcolm! now let us part-as suits us both,
Calmly-as best beseems our misery.

Go; be you happy!-you cannot be happy-
I feel it in my heart-but, be at peace.

I bear my sorrow meekly. On your hand

I place my lips-I bless you-and farewell!

[Exeunt, Madeleine, R.; Malcolm, L.

END OF ACT III.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.-Holyrood-The King's closet.

Enter an ATTENDANT, R. conducting BISHOP.

Atten. His grace will not be long ere he returns. Please you, be seated.