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How couldst thou kill what waves and tem- Pris. Bless'd be the hour that made me a pests spar'd ?

poor man; Pris. I am not so inhuman.

My poverty hath sav'd my master's house! The needy man who has known better days, Lady R. Thy words surprise me: sure thou One whom distress has spited at the world,

dost not feign! Is he whom tempting fiends would pitch upon The tear stands in thine eye; such love from To do such deeds as make the prosperous men

thee Lift up their hands, and wonder who could Sir Malcolm's house deserv'd not; if aright do them.

Thou told'st the story of thy own distress. And such a man was I: a man declin'd, Pris. Sir Malcolm of our barons was the Who saw no end of black adversity:

flower; Yet

, for the wealth of kingdoms, I would not The safest friend, the best, the kindest master. Have touch'd that infant with a hand of harm. But ah! he knew not of my sad estate. Lady R. Ha! dost thou say so! then per- After that battle, where his gallant son, haps he lives!

Your own brave brother fell, the good old lord Pris. Not many days ago he was alive. Grew desperate and reckless of the world; Lady R. Oh, 'God of heav'n! did he then And never, as he erst was wont, went forth die so lately?

To overlook the conduct of his servants. Pris. I did not say he died; I hope he lives. By them I was thrust out, and them I blame: Not many days ago these eyes beheld May heav'n so judge me as I judge my master! Him flourishing in youth, and health, and beauty. And God so love me as I love his race! Lady R. Where is he now?

Lady R. His race shall yet reward thee. Pris. Alas! I know not where.

On thy faith Lady R. Oh, fate! I fear thee still. Thou Depends the fate of thy lov'd master's house. riddler, speak

Rememb’rest thou a litile, lonely hut, Direct and clear; else I will search thy soul. That like a holy hermitage appears speak my shame;

Pris. I remember the cottage of the cliffs. Within the cradle where the infant lay, Lady R. 'Tis that I mean: Was stow'd a mighty store of gold and jewels; There dwells a man of venerable age, Tempted by which, we did resolve to hide, Who in my father's service spent his youth: From all the world this wonderful event, Tell him I sent thee, and with him remain, And like a peasant breed the noble child. Till I shall call upon thee to declare, That none might mark the change of our estate, Before the king, and nobles, what thou now We left the country, travelled to the north, To me hast told. No more but this, and thou Bought flocks and herds, and gradually brought Shalt live in honour all thy future days! forth

Thy son so long shall call thee father still, Our secret wealth. But God's all-seeing eye And all the land shall bless the man who sav'd Bebeld our avarice, and smote us sore: The son of Douglas, and sir Malcolm's heir. For, one by one, all our own children died, Remember well my words; if thou shouldst And he, the stranger, sole remaind the heir

meet Of what indeed was his. Fain then would I, Him, whom thou call'st thy son, still call him Who with a father's fondness lov'd the boy,

so; Have trusted him, now in the dawn of youth, And mention nothing of his nobler father. With his own secret: but my anxious wife, Pris. Fear not that I shall mar so fair a Foreboding evil, never would consent.

harvest, Meanwhile the stripling grew in years and By putting in my sickle ere 'tis ripe.

Why did I leave my home and ancient dame ? And, as we oft observ'd, he bore himself, To find the youth, to tell him all I knew, Not as the offspring of our cottage blood; And make him wear these jewels on his arm ; For nature will break out: mild with the mild, Which might, I thought, he challeng’d, and But with the froward he was fierce as' fire;

so bring And night and day he talk'd of war and arms. To light the secret of his noble birth. I set myself against bis warlike bent ;

[Lady Randolph goes towards the But all in vain; for when a desperate band

Servants. Of robbers from the savage mountains came- Lady R. This man is not the assassin you Lady R. Eternal Providence! What is thy

suspected, name?

Though chance combin'd some likelihond Pris. My name is Norval; and my name

against him. he bears.

He is the faithful bearer of the jewels Lady R. 'Tis he! 'tis he himself! It is my To their right owner, whom in haste he seeks. son!

'Tis meet that you should him on his way, Oh, sovereign mercy! 'twas my child I saw! Since your misļaken zeal hath dragg’d him Pris. If I, amidst astonishment and fear,

bither. Have of your words and gestures rightly judg’d,

[Exeunt Prisoner and Servants. Thou art the daughter of my ancient master; My faithful Anna! dost thou share my joy? The child I rescu'd frorn the flood is thine. I know thou dost. Unparallel'd eveni! Lady R. With thee dissimulation now Reaching from heav'n to earth, Jehovah's arm were vain.

Snatch'd from the waves, and brings me to I am indeed the daughter of sir Malcolm; The child thou rescu’dst from the food is Judge of the widow, and the orphan's father, mine.

Accept a widow's and a mother's thanks

beauty;

put

my son!

man.

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For such a gift! What does my Anna think And be the echo of thy martial fame.
Of the young eaglet of a valiant nest? No longer vainly feed a guilty passion:
How soon be 'gaz'd on bright and burning Go and pursue a lawful mistress, glory:
arms,

Upon the Danish crests redeem thy fault, Spurn'd the low dunghill where his fate had And let thy valour be the shield of Randolph. thrown him,

Glen. One instant stay, and bear an alter'd And tower'd up to the regions of his sire! Anna. How fondly did your eyes devour When beauty pleads for virtue, rice abash'd the boy!

Flies its own colours, and goes o'er to virtue. Mysterious nature, with the unseen cord I am your convert; time will show how truly: of pow'rful instinct, drew you to your own. Yet one immediate proof I mean to give. Lady R. The ready story of his birth be- That youth for whom your ardent zeal to-day, liev'd,

Somewhat too haughtily desy'd your slavė, Sappress'd my fancy quite; nor did he owe Amidst the shock of armies I'll defend, To any likeness my so sudden favour: And turn death from him, with a guardian arm. But now I long to see his face again,

Lady R. Act thus, Glenalvon, and I am thy Examine every feature, and find out

friend; The lineaments of Douglas, or my own.

But that's thy least reward. Believe me, sir, But, most of all, I long to let him know The truly generous is the truly wise; Who his true parents are, to clasp his neck, And he, who loves not others, lives únblest. And tell him all the story of his father.

[Exit Ludy Randolph. Anna. With wary caution you must bear Glen. Amen! and virtue is its own reward: yourself

I think that I have hit the very tone In public, lest your tenderness break forth, In which she loves to speak. Honey'd assent, And in observers stir conjectures strange. How pleasant art thou to the taste of man, To-day the baron started at your tears. And woman also! flattery direct Lady R. He did so, Anna : well thy mistress Rarely disgusts. They little know mankind knows

Who doubt its operation: 'tis my key, If the least circumstance, mote of offence, And opes

the wicket of the human heart. Should touch the baron's eye; his sight would How far I have succeeded now, I know not; be

Yet I incline to think her stormy virtue With jealousy disorder’d. But the more Is lulld awhile; 'tis her alone I fear; It does behove me instant to declare While she and Randolph live, and live in faith The birth of Douglas, and assert his rights. And amity, uncertain is my tenure, Anna. Behold, Glenalvon comes.

That slave of Norval's I have found most apt; Lady R. Now I shun him not.

I show'd him gold, and he has pawn'd his soul This day I brar'd him in bebalf of Norval; To

say and swear whatever I

suggest. Perhaps too far; at least my nicer fears Norval, I'm told, has that alluring look, For Douglas thus interpret.

'Twixt man and woman, which I have observ'd

To charm the nicer and fantastic dames,
Enter GLENALVON.

Who are, like lady Randolph, full of virtue. Glen. Noble dame,

In raising Randolph's jealousy, I may The hovering Dane at last his men hath landed : But point him to the truth. He seldom errs, No band of pirates; but a mighty host, Who thinks the worst he can of womankind. That come to settle where there valour con

Exit. quers:

ACT IV.
To win a country, or to lose themselves.

Scene I.-Flourish of Trumpets.
A nimble courier, sent from yonder camp,
To hasten up the chieftains of the north,

Enter LORD RANDOLPH, attended. Inform'd me as he pass'd, that the fierce Dane Lord R. Summon a hundred horse, by break Had on the eastern coats of Lothian landed.

of day, Lady R. How many mothers shall bewail To wait our pleasure at the castle gate.

their sons! How many widows weep their husbands slain!

Enter LADY RANDOLPH. Ye dames of Denmark, e'en for you I feel, · Lady R. Alas, my lord, I've heard unwelWho, sadly sitting on the sea-beat shore,

'come news; Long look for lords that never shall return. The Danes are landed. Glen. Oft has the unconquer'd Caledonian Lord R. Ay, no inroad this sword

Of the Northumbrian, bent to take a spoil : Widow'd the north. The children of the slain No sportive war, no tournament essay, Come, as I hope, to meet their fathers' fate. Of some young knight resolv’d to break a spear, The monster war, with her infernal brood, And stain with hostile blood his maiden arms. Loud-yelling fury and life-ending pain, The Danes are landed : we must beat them back, Are objects suited to Glenalvon's soul. Or live the slaves of Denmark. Scorn is more grievous than the pains of death; Lady R. Dreadful times! Reproach more piercing than the pointed sword. Lord R. The fenceless villages are all forLord R. I scorn thee not, but when I ought

saken; to scorn;

The trembling mothers, and their children Nor e'er reproach, but when insulted virtue

lodg'd Against audacious vice asserts herself. In wall-girt towers and castles! whilst the men I own thy worth, Glenalvon; none more apt Retire indignant: yet, like broken waves, Than I to praise thine eminence in arms, They but retire more awful to return.

more

not

Lady R. Immense, as fame reports, the Da-|Those qualities that should have grac'd a camp? nish host!

Nor. That too at last I learn'd. Unhappy Lord R. Were it as numerous as loud fame

man! reports,

Returning homewards by Messina's port, An army knit like ours would pierce it through: Loaded with wealth and honours bravely won, Brothers that shrink not from each other's side, A rude and boist'rous captain of the sea And fond companions, fill our warlike files: Fasten'd a quarrel on him. Fierce they fought: For his dear offspring, and the wife he loves, The stranger fell, and with his dying breath The husband, and the fearless father arm: Declar'd his name and lineage. Mighty pow'r! In vulgar breasts heroic ardour burns, The soldier cried, My brother! Oh, my brother! And the poor peasant mates his daring lord. Lady R. His brother! Lady R. Men's minds are temper'd, like Nor. Yes; of the same parents born;

their swords, for war; His only brother. They exchang'd forgiveness ; Lovers of danger, on destruction's brink And happy in my mind was he that died; They joy to rear erect their daring forms, For many deaths has the survivor suffer'd. Hence, early graves; hence, the lone widow's In the wild desert on a rock he sits, life;

Or on some nameless stream's untrodden banks, And the sad mother's grief-embitter'd age. And ruminates all day his dreadful fate. Where is our gallant guest?

At times, alas! not in his perfect mind, Lord R. Down in the vale

Holds dialogues with his lov'd brother's ghost; I left him, managing a fiery steed,

And oft each night forsakes his sullen couch, Whose stubbornness bad foild the strength To make sad orisons for him he slew. and skill

Lady R. In this dire tragedy were there no Of every rider. But behold' he comes, In earnest conversation with Glenalvon. L'nhappy persons ? Did the parents live?

Nor. No, they were dead; kind heav'n had Enter NORVAL and GLENALVON.

clos'd their eyes, Glenalvon, with the lark arise; go forth, Before their son had shed his brother's blood. And lead my troops that lie in 'yonder vale: Lord R. Hard is his fate ; for he was Private I travel to the royal camp:

to blame! Norval, thou goest with me. But say, young There is a destiny in this strange world, man!

Which oft decrees an undeserved doom: Where didst thou learn so to discourse of war, Let schoolmen tell us whyAnd in such terms, as I o'erheard to-day?

[Trumpets at a Distance. War is no village science, nor its phrase From whence these sounds ? A language taught amongst the shepherd swains. Nor. Small is the skill my lord delights to

Enter an Officer. praise

Offi. My lord, the trumpets of the troops In him he favours. Hear from whence it came.

of Lorn! Beneath a mountain's brow, the most remote The valiant leader hails the noble Randolph. And inaccessible by shepherds trod,

Lord R. Mine ancient guest! Does he the In a deep cave, dug by no mortal hand,

warriors lead? A hermit liv'd; a melancholy man!

Has Denmark rous'd the brave old knight to Who was the wonder of our wand'ring swains.

arms? Austere and lonely, cruel to himself

Off. No; worn with warfare, he resigns Did they report him; the cold earth his bed,

the sword. Water his drink, his food the shepherds' alms. His eldest hope, the valiant John of Lorn, I went to see him, and my heart was touchd Now leads his kindred bands. With rev'rence and with pity. Mild be spake, Lord R. Glenalvon, go; And, entering on discourse, such stories told, With hospitality's most strong request As made me oft revisit his sad cell.

Entreat the chief.

[Erit "Glenaloon. For he had been a soldier in his youth; Offi. My lord, requests are vain. And fought in famous battles, when the peers He urges on, impatient of delay, Of Europe, by the bold Godfredo led, Stung with the tidings of the foe's approach. Against the usurping infidel display'd

Lord R. May victory sit upon the warrior's The blessed cross, and won the Holy Land.

plume! Pleas'd with my admiration, and the fire Bravest of men! his flocks and herds are safe; His speech struck from me, the old man would Remote from war's alarms his pastures lie, sbake

By mountains inaccessible secur'd:
His years away, and act his young encounters: Yet foremost he into the plain descends,
Then, having show'd his wounds, he'd sit bim Eager to bleed in battles not his own.
down,

I'll go and press the hero to my breast.
And all the live-long day discourse of war.

[Exit with the Officer. To help my fancy, in the smooth green turf Lady R. The soldier's loftiness, the pride He cut the figures of the marshalld hosts ; Describ’d the motions, and explain'd the use Investing awful war, Norval, I see, Of the deep column, and the lengthen'd line, Transport thy youthful mind. The square, the crescent, and the phalanx firm: Nor. Ah! should they not? For all that Saracen or Christian knew Bless'd be the hour I left my father's house! Of war's vast art, was to this hermit known. I might have been a shepherd all my days, Lord R Why did this soldier in a desert And stole obscurely to a peasant's grave. hide

Now, if I live, with mighty chiefs I stand ;

and pomp

my life:

came.

And, if I fall, with noble dust I lie.

But did my sire surpass the rest of men, Lady R. There is a generous spirit in thy As thou excellest all of womankind? breast,

Lady R. Arise, my son. In me thou dost That could have well sustain'd a prouder fortune.

behold This way with me; under yon spreading beach, The poor remains of beauty once admir’d. Unseen, unheard, by human eye or ear, Yet in my prime I equalld not thy father; I will amaze thee with a wondrous tale. Ilis eyes were like the eagle's, yet sometimes Nor. Let there be danger, lady, with the Liker the dove's; and, as he pleas'd, he won secret,

All hearts with softness, or with spirit aw’d. That I may hug it to my grateful heart, Nor. How did he fall ? Sure 'twas a bloody And prove my faith. Command my sword,

field

When Douglas died! Oh, I have much to ask! These are the sole possessions of

poor

Norval. Lady R. İlereafter thou shalt hear the lengthLady R. Know'st thou these gems?

en'd tale Nor. Durst I believe mine eyes,

Of all thy father's and thy mother's woes. I'd say I knew them, and they were my father's. At present this-Thou ari the rightful heir Lady R. Thy father's, say'st thou? Ah, they of yonder castle, and the wide domains, were thy father's !

Which now lord Randolph, as my husband, Nor. I saw them once, and curiously inquir’d

holds. Of both my parents, whence such splendour But thou shalt not be wrong'd; I have the

power But I was check'd, and more could never learn. To right thee still. Before the king I'll kneel, Lady R. Then learn of me — thou art not And call lord Douglas to protect his blood. Norval's son.

Nor. The blood of Douglas will protect itself. Nor. Not Norval's son?

Lady R. But we shall need both friends Lady R. Nor of a shepherd sprung.

and favour, boy, Nor. Who am I then?

To wrest thy lands and lordship from the gripe Lady R. Noble thou art,

Of Randolph and his kinsman. Yet I think For noble was thy sire.

My tale will move each gentle heart to pity, Nor. I will believe

My life incline the virtuous to believe. Oh, tell me further! say, who was my father! Nor. To be the son of Douglas is to me Lady R. Douglas!

Inheritance enough! Declare my birth, Nor. Lord Douglas, whom to-day I saw ? And in the field I'll seek for fame and fortune. Lady R. His younger brother.

Lady R. Thou dost not know what perils Nor. And in yonder camp?

and injustice Lady R. Alas!

Await the poor man's valour. Oh,

my

son! Nor. You make me tremble-Sighs and tears! The noblest blood of all the land's abash'd, Lives my brave father?

Having no lackey but pale poverty. Lady R. Ah! too brave, indeed!

Too long hast thou been thus attended, Douglas; He fell in battle ere thyself was born. Too long hast thou been deem'd a peasant's Nor. Ah me, unhappy! ere I saw the light!

child: But does my mother live? I may conclude, The wanton heir of some inglorious chief From my own fate, her portion has been sorrow. Perhaps has scorn'd thee in thy youthful sports, Ladý R. She lives; but wastes her life in Whilst thy indignant spirit swelld in vain. constant woe,

Such contumely thou no more shalt bear: Weeping her husband slain, her infant lost. But how I purpose to redress thy wrongs Nor. You that are skilld so well in the sad Must be hereafter told. Prudence direcis story

That we should part before yon chies’s return. of my unhappy parents, and with tears Retire, and from thy rustic follower's hand Bewail their destiny, now have compassion Receive a billet, which thy mother's care, 0 pon the offspring of the friends you lov'd. Anxious to see thee, dictated before On, tell me who and where my mother is! This casual opportunity arose Oppress'd by a base world, perhaps she bends of private conference. Its purport mark; Beneath the weight of other ills than grief; For, as I there appoint, we meet again. And, desolate, implores of heaven the aid Leave me, my son; and frame thy mauners still Her son should give. It is, it must be so- To Norval's, not to noble Douglas' state. Your countenance confesses that she's wretched. Nor. I will remember. Where is Norval Ob, tell me ber condition! Can the sword

now, Who shall resist me in a parent's cause? That good old man? Lady R. Thy virtue ends her woe-My son ! Lady R.. At hand conceald he lies,

A useful witness. But beware, my son, I am thy mother, and the wife of Douglas! Of yon Glenalvon; in his guilty breast

[Falls upon his Neck. Resides a villain's shrewdness, ever prone Nor. Oh, heaven and earth! how wond'rous To false conjecture. He hath griev'd my heart.

Nor. Has 'he, indeed? Then let yon false Art thou my mother ? Ever let me kneel!

Glenalvon Lady R. Image of Douglas! fruit of fatal Beware of me.

[Exit love!

Lady R. There burst the smother'd fiame. All that I owe thy sire ! pay to thee. 0, thou all-righteous and eternal King!

Nor. Respect and admiration still possess me, Who father of the fatherless art called, Checking the love and fondness of a son: Protect my son! Thy inspiration, Lord! Yet I was filial to my humble parents. Hath fill'd his hosom with that sacred fire,

my son!

is my fate!

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Which in the breasts of his forefathers burn'd : But if he be the favourite of the fair,
Set him on high, like them, that he may shine Lov'd by the first of Caledonia's dames,
The star and glory of his native land! He'll turn upon me, as the lion turns
Yonder they come. How do bad women find Upon the hunter's spear.
Unchanging aspects to conceal their guilt, Lord R. "Tis shrewdly thought.
When I, by reason and by justice urg'd, Glen. When we grow loud, draw near.
Full hardly can dissemble with these men

But let

my

lord In nature's pious cause?

His rising wrath restrain.- [Exit Randolph.

'Tis strange, by heaven! Enter LORD RANDOLPH and GLENALVON. That she should run full tilt her fond career Lord R. Yon gallant chief,

To one so little known. She, too, that seem'd Of arms enamour'd, all repose disclaims. Pure as the winter stream, when ice, emboss'd, Lady R. Be not, my lord, by his example Whitens its course. Even I did think her chaste, sway'd.

Whose charity exceeds not. Precious sex! Arrange the business of to-morrow now, Whose deeds lascivious

pass Glenalvon's And when you enter, speak of war no more.

thoughts!

[E.cil. Lord R. 'Tis so, by heav'n! her mien, her

Enter Noryal. 'voice, her eye,

His port I love: he's in a proper mood And her impatience to be gone, confirm it. To chide the thunder, if at him it roar'd. Glen. He parted from her now. Behind the

[-Aside. mount,

Has Norval seen the troops ? Amongst the trees, I saw him glide along. Nor. The setting sun Lord R. For sad sequester'd virtue she's With yellow radiance lightend all the vale; renown'd.

And as the warriors mov'd, each polish'd belm, Glen. Most true, my lord,

Corslet, or spear, glanc'd back his gilded beams. Lord R. Yet this distinguish'd dame The hill they climb'd, and, halting at its top, Invites a youth, the acquaintance of a day, Of more than mortal size, tow'ring, they seem'd Alone to meet her at the midnight hour. A host angelic, clad in burning arms. This assignation [Shows a Letter] the assas- Glen. Thou talk'st it well; no leader of our sin freed,

host Her manifest affection for the youth, In sounds more lofty speaks of glorious war. Might breed suspicion in a husband's brain, Nor. If I shall e'er acquire a leader's name, Whose gentle consort all for love had wedded: My speech will be less ardent. Novelty Much more in mine. Matilda never lov'd mc. Now prompts my tongue, and youthful adLet no man, after me, a woman wed,

miration Whose beart he knows he has not, though Vents itself freely; since no part is mine she brings

Of praise pertaining to the great in arms. A mine of gold, a kingdom for her dowry. Glen. You wrong yourself, brave sir, your For let her seem, like the night's shadowy queen,

martial deeds Cold and contemplative-he cannot trust her; Have rank'd you with the great. Bụt mark She may, she will, bring shame and sorrow

me, Norval: on him;

Lord Randolph's favour now exalts your youth The worst of sorrows, and the worst of shames! Above his veterans of famous service. Glen. Yield not, my lord, to such afflicting Let me, who know these soldiers, counsel you. thoughts,

Give them all honour: seem not to command; But let the spirit of a busband sleep, Else they will scarcely brook

your
late

sprung Till your own senses make a sure conclusion.

power, This billet must to blooming Norval go: Wbich nor alliance props, nor birth adorns. At the next turn awaits my trusty spy;

Nor. Sir, I have been accustom'd all my days I'll give it him refitted for his master. To hear and speak the plain' and simple truth: In the close thicket take your secret stand; And though I have been told, that there are men The moon shines bright, and your own eyes Who borrow friendship's tongue to speak their

may judge Of their behaviour.

Yet in such language I am little skill'd. · Lord R. Thou dost counsel well.

Therefore I thank Glenalvon for his counsel, Glen. Permit me now to make one slight Although it sounded harshly. Why remind essay;

Me of my birth obscure? Why slur my power
Of all the trophies, which vain mortals boast, With such contemptuous terms ?
By wit, by valour, or by wisdom won, Glen. I did not mean
The first and fairest in a young man's eye To gall your pride; which now I see is great.
Is woman's captive heart. Successful love Nor. My pride!
With glorious furnes intoxicates the mind, Glen. Suppress it, as you wish to prosper.
And the proud conqueror in triumph moves, Your pride's excessive. Yet, for Randolph's sake,
Air-borne, exalted above vulgar men. I will not leave you to its rash direction.

Lord R. And what avails this maxim? If thus you swell, and frown at high-born men,
Glen. Much, my lord.

Will high-born men endure a shepherd's scorn?
Withdraw a little; I'll accost young Norval, Nor. A shepherd's scorn!
And with ironical derisive counsel

Glen. Yes, if you presume Explore his spirit. If he is no more To bend on soldiers ihese disdainful eyes, Than humble Norval, by thy favour rais'd, What will become of you? Brave as he is, he'll shrink astonish'd from me: Nor. If this were told !

[4side.

scorp,

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