Mal. Alas, I cannot tell !

Sir A. And no one else. She has a heart untouched By liking, for she ne'er has spoke to man Save you ; and, therefore, why should she refuse Her hand where I've determined to bestow it ? “ Moss-Holm, with its broad meadows and rich haughs, “Is settled on her, on her marriage day; “ The management—the rents, are in my hands : " Moss-Holm and Laichmont, if conjoined in one, “ Were a fit holding for a belted earl. “ Now hear me farther: If success should crown

My efforts, in a cause which scarce can fail,
• There is sure promise of a rank and name
“ To me ; and failing other heirs—to her-
“ To Madeleine—the lady Madeleine-
• The Baroness of Laichmont !-she shall wed
“No bold ambitious springald, that might mar

My rising, with some crotchet of his own;"
I must have Laichmont and Moss-Holm conjoined.
Now, let her marry this young popinjay,
Or be an outcast ! Did you tell her this ?

Mal. Something of this she knew.

Sir A. I know she did,
I told her so.

Does she consent, I ask ?
Mal. She did not tell me she would give consent.

Sir A. You did not ask her. Am I thwarted thus ? Have

you

the insolence to tell me this ? Know you what I have been to you?

Mal. I do.
Sir A. And know you what it is you are ?
Mal. I do.

Sir A. Well, then-why spoke you not to Madeleine, To change her purpose ?

Mal. For I could not do it.
Sir A. You would not. You're a kinsman, Malcolm

Young-
A penniless, unfriended kinsman, Sir;
Know you 'twas I that moved the Cardinal
To give you priesthood ?

Mal. Yes, I know it was.
Sir Adam Weir, let us have no mistake :
You asked me, if I knew what you had been :

possessed

I told you yes. You asked me, if I knew
Who I was, and I told you, yes, again.
You taunt me that I'm friendless—that I'm poor;
You boast you moved the great Lord Cardinal
To make me priest. I am a friendless man;
I'm poor; I am a priest—and would to Heaven
That I had died the day that made me so !
You've crushed my heart. I will not curse you, Sir,
But I will bid you look into your

breast-
What see you there ? Oh, Sir, is there no thought
Of all the wrecks you've made of Peace-of Hope-
Of Trust and Innocence ?

Sir A. How mean you, Sir ?

Mal. Nay, hear me out. When all that I
It was not much, but it was all I had
Was lost in the great bark in which you sailed,
When you were shipwrecked on the Spanish coast-

Sir A. I know, I know; you doubt not I was wrecked ? I have the proofs.

Mal. When all I had was lost,
And I was doomed to eat the bitter bread
Of grudging kindness, you assumed a right
To guide me: I was plastic in your hands :
I turned my sprit from its loved pursuits-
The steed--the sword-and bent it to the toil
Of midnight study; half forgot myself
To stone, and weeded from my heart away
All memories :-so I thought--of what had been.
Sir, all these memories have sprung again,
Fresh! Oh, they rush like a red lava-flood
Into my soul—they boil up to my brain !
Man, that I trusted ! tyrant, who has made
My life a desert, and my

heart a

tomb ! I warn you, make not others miserable, As you've made me. I'm a roused man. Beware!

Sir A. What is't you know? Of what must I beware ?

Mal. I tell you, every tear that I have shed,
Rises to Heaven against you, like the voice
Of blood! for Sorrow has a cry for Vengeance
On him who caused it, as the voiceless lips
Of murdered men call out to Righteous Heaven
Against their murderer! There's an hour shall come-
It may come quickly.

No;

Sir A. What do you suspect

? Mal. Nothing. I've no suspicions; but I know.

[Exit, L. Sir A. What is't he knows ?. Can he have heard it said There was no wreck—and that I kept it all ? It cannot be--no, non --the proofs are good. And Madeleine, too, the meek-souled Madeleine, The worm I've trampled, turns on me at last. What has she learned ?-does she know all ? Well, well, What if she does ? she's but a silly girl, And men will laugh at her, if she but breathe A word against my name.

she shall wed. Oh, she will pine, for she’s of noble thoughts, When married to the fool. But all Moss-Holm Is mine-is mine! and all my dreams come true.

(A noise heard. What tramp is that of horsemen in the court ? Can Albyn be returned ? And will the lords Do as Lord Dacre bids them? Will they take The English bribes, and leave the fiery James Unfriended, powerless? Then, my game is won! No danger more; rank, fortune, all my own;

Enter LAIRD SMALL, MUNGO, and WIDOW, R.
Laird. Gadso! it's very kind in good King James
Sir A. What is it, Sir ?

Laird. It's very kind, Gadso!
He's heard of Mungo's marriage, and commands
His presence, and his bride's ; Gadso, 'tis kind!
I thought not Mungo such a favourite.

Sir A. (L. c.) Your son is silent, Sir.
Laird. įTo Mungo.] Why don't you speak ?

Enter OFFICER, R.
Ofi. The King commands you with all speed to court.
Laird. Gadso! you don't seem pleased. I'll bet you,

now, James has some famous tournament afoot, And want's to run a course with you

himself. Mun. (R. C.) With me—a course ? Laird. [To Sir Adam.] I told you he was a boy! Sir A. What means all this ? what is it you would say ?

Laird. The king has sent for us : for

you
and

me,
And Mungo, and good Widow Barton, here.
Gadso, he deigns to give the bride away
With his own hand; so says the messenger!

MIun. Father, when we arrive at Holyrood,
Don't say a word about the tournament.

Laird. No ? Does the King not like it ? few folks do, To be reminded of discomfitures. I knew a captain of—but never mind, He ran away from Flodden. Gadso, Sir! If you said anything that began with F,Physic, philosophy, no matter whatGadso, he flew in such a passion, Sir.

Sir A. I'll not to court: I'm old; I am not well.

Offi. I must require you to make no delay; We must reach Holyrood ere vesper

chime. Sir A. (Aside.] Is it, then, true, this fool is loved by

James ?
Why, then, so much the better. [Aloud.] If the king
Commands, we must obey.

Widow. What, I? Sir Adam !
My silk is at the dyer's, the old puce ;
It's to be black; I wish it had come home,
How can I look upon a king, dressed thus ?
Oh! it will be high treason, Where's my cousin ?
I'll borrow her

green

satin. Madeleine ! Where is she gone to ? Cousin Madeleine ! [Exit, L.

Mun. Father, you'll not speak any nonsense, now, About my breaking in King James's horse ?

Laird. Why not? It was a goodly piece of service; I wish you had done the same to

my
old

mare ; She laid me in a ditch.

Mun. I wish the King
Would leave folks to get married for themselves.

Offi. I must remind you

Sir A. You had best make haste
To obey the summons. I am quite prepared.

Laird. The King is very kind-exceeding good.
Come, Mungo, we'll go on; the bride will follow.
Gadso! I'm thankful to the King. Come, boy!

(Exeunt omnes, Ro

END OF ACT IV.

ACT V.

Scene I.—The Audience Chamber in Holyrood; folding

doors at the back ; a side-door, R.; throne, L. C. “James seated apart. The COURTIERS in groups. The

“LORDS observing him. “Somer. [To Kil.] His grace is heavier than his wont.

" Kil. He looks “ All round, first upon one, then on another, " As he would dive into their hearts.

Somer. See, now!
“How he is gazing on Lord Seton's face.

" James. Seton !
“ Seton. Your Majesty!

“ James. Come near me, Seton !
• What is’t detains the Cardinal so long ?
“ 'Tis no such mighty work; a ready pen
“ And a good will should make it minutes' business.

" Seton. l'll seek his grace. “ James. Bid him despatch.

Exit Seton, R. "To Hume. A word“ The escort is returned from Laichmont ?

" Hume. Yes. :6 James. With the whole household of Sir Adam Weir ? “ Hume. They wait your summons in the ante-chamber. “ James. Well, let them wait awhile; we've other mat

" ters

“ That need our ordering first. I'll call them soon. “ Kil. [To Somerville.) A smile the first I've seen on

him to-day. “ Somer. I trust he has no doubt.

6. Kil. His looks are sad, “ Not doubtful. He is of a trusting nature.

“Somer. When comes the messenger from Dacre's

camp ?

“ Max. I trust, ere long; I like quick settlements. “ And, by the Lord ! if Dacre plays us false, “ And sends not the instalment due this week, “ I'll join the King !

“ Kil. Oh! he will send the coin.