Alice. I never said it was possible; I only said it was true; and that if ever I heard music, I heard it last night. [servants. F. Phil. Perhaps the fool was singing to the Alice. The fool, indeed! Oh, fle, fle! How dare you call my lady's ghost a fool?

F. Phil. Your lady's ghost! You silly old woman. Alice. Yes, father, yes; I repeat it, I heard the guitar, lying upon the oratory table, play the very air which the lady Evelina used to sing while rocking her little daughter's cradle. She warbled it so sweetly, and ever at the close it went(Singing.)

Lullaby, Lullyby! hush thee, my dear!

Thy father is coming, and soon will be here!"

F. Phil.. Nonsense, nonsense! Why, pr'ythee, Alice, do you think that your lady's ghost would get up at night only to sing lullaby for your amusement? Besides, how should a spirit, which is nothing but air, play upon an instrument of material wood and catgut?

Alice. How can I tell? Why, I know very well that men are made; but if you desired me to make a man, I vow and protest I shouldn't know how to set about it. I can only say, that last night I heard the ghost of the murdered lady

F. Phil. Playing upon the spirit of a cracked guitar! Alice, Alice! these fears are ridiculous! The idea of ghosts is a vulgar prejudice; and they, who are timid and absurd enough to encourage it, prove themselves the most contemptible

Alice. (Screaming.) Oh, Lord bless us! F. Phil. What? Eh!-Oh, dear! Alice. Look, look!-A figure in white!-It comes from the haunted room.

F. Phil. Dropping on his knees.) Blessed St. Patrick-Who has got my beads? Where's my prayer-book? It comes, it comes! Now, now! Lacka-day; it's only lady Angela. (Rising.) Lack-a-day! I am glad of it with all all my heart.

Aice. Truly so am I. But what say you now, father, to the fear of spectres ?

F. Phil. Why, the next time you are afraid of a ghost, remember and make use of the receipt which I shall now give you; and instead of calling for a priest to lay the spirits of other people in the red sea, call for a bottle of red wine to raise your own. Probatum est.

[Exit.

Alice. Wine, indeed! I believe he thinks I like drinking as well as himself. No, no; let the old toping friar take his bottle of wine; I shall confine myself to plain cherry brandy.

Enter ANGELA.

Ang. I am weary of wandering from room to room; in vain do I change the scene, discontent is everywhere. There was a time, when music could delight my ear, and nature could charm my eyewhen I could pour forth a prayer of gratitude, and thank my good angels for a day unclouded by sorrow. Now, all is gone, all lost, all faded! (Aside.) Alice. Lady.

Ang. Perhaps at this moment he thinks upon me. Perhaps then he sighs, and murmurs to himself,"The flowers, the rivulets, the birds, every object reminds me of my well-beloved; but what shall remind her of Edwy ?"-Oh, that will my heart, Edwy; I need no other remembrancer. (Aɛide.)

Alice. Lady, lady Angela! She minds me no more than a post.

Ang. Oh, are you there, good Alice? What would you with me?

Alice. Only ask how your ladyship rested.
Ang. Ill; very ill.

[bed. Alice. Look-a-day! and yet you sleep in the best

Ang. Methougnt I heard some one singing: it seemed as if the words ran thus:-(Singing.) "Lullaby, Lullaby, hush thee, my dear!"

Alice. (Screaming.) The very words. It was the ghost, lady, it was the ghost!

Ang. The ghost, Alice! I protest I thought it had been you.

Alice. Me, lady! Lord, when did you hear this singing?

Ang. Not five minutes ago; while you were talking with Father Philip.

Alice. The lord be thanked. Then it was not the ghost. It, was I, lady; it was I! And have you heard no other singing since you came to the castle?

Ang. None. But why that question?

Alice. Because, lady-But perhaps you may be frightened?

Ang. No, no;-proceed, I entreat you.

Alice. Why, then, they do say, that the chamber in which you sleep is haunted. You may have observed two folding doors, which are ever kept locked they lead to the oratory, in which the lady Evelina passed most of her time, while my lord was engaged in the Scottish wars. She would sit there, good soul, hour after hour, playing on the lute, and singing airs so sweet, so sad, that many a time and oft have I wept to hear her. Ah! when I kissed her hand at the castle-gate, little did I suspect that her fate would have been so wretched.

Ang. And what was her fate?

Alice. A sad one, lady. Impatient to embrace her lord, after a year's absence, the Countess set out to meet him on his return from Scotland, accompanied by a few domestics and her infant daughter, then scarce a twelvemonth old. But, as she returned with her husband, robbers surprised the party, scarce a mile from the castle; and, since that time, no news has been received of the Earl, of the Countess, the servants, or the child.

Ang. Dreadful! Were not their corses found? Alice. Never. The only domestic who escaped, pointed out the scene of action; and, as it proved to be on the river's banks, doubtless the assassins plunged the bodies into the stream.

Ang. Strange! And did Earl Osmond then become owner of this castle? Alice, was he ever suspected of

Alice. Speak lower, lady. It was said so, I own; but for my own part I never believed it. To my certain knowledge, Osmond loved the lady Evelina too well to hurt her; and when he heard of her death, he wept and sobbed as if his heart were breaking. Nay, 'tis certain that he proposed to her before marriage, and would have made her his wife, only that she liked his brother better. But I hope you are not alarmed by what I mentioned of the cedar-room?

Ang. No, truly, Alice; from good spirits I have nothing to fear, and heaven and my innocence will protect me against bad.

Alice. My very sentiments, I protest. But heaven forgive me: while I stand gossiping here, I warrant

all goes wrong in the kitchen. Your pardon, lady; I must away; I must away. [Exit. Ang. (Musing.) Osmond was his brother's heir. His strange demeanour! Yes, in that gloomy brow is written a volume of villainy.-Heavenly powers! an assassin then is master of my fate! An assassin too, who-I dare not bend my thoughts that way. Oh! would I had never entered these castle walls! had never exchanged for fearful pomp the security of my pleasures-the tranquility of my soul! [Exit. ACT II-SCENE I.-The Armoury. Suits of Armour are arranged on both sides, upon pedestals, with the names of their possessors written under each.

Enter MOTLEY, peeping. Mot. The coast is clear. Hist! hist! You may enter. Enter PERCY.

Per. Loiter not here. Quick, my good fellow! Conduct me to Angela.

Mot. Softly, softly. A little caution is needful; and I promise you just now I'm not upon roses. Per. If such are your fears, why not lead me at once to Angela?

Mot. Be contented, and leave all to me: I will contrive matters so, that Osmond shall have you before his eyes, and be no jot the wiser. But you must make up your mind to play a statue for an Per. How. [hour or two. Mot. Nay, 'tis absolutely necessary. The late Earl's servants are fully persuaded that his ghost wanders every night through the long galleries, and parades the old towers and dreary halls which abound in this melancholy mansion. He is supposed to be dressed in complete armour; and that which you are to wear at present was formerly his. Now hear my plan. The Earl prepares to hold ference with lady Angela; here, placed upon the pedestal, you may listen to their discourse unobserved, and thus form a proper judgment both of your mistress and her guardian. As soon as it grows dark, I will conduct you to Angela's apartment: and even should you be observed, you will pass for Earl Reginald's spectre.

con

Per. I do not dislike your plan: but tell me, Gilbert, do you believe this tale of the apparition? Mot. Oh! heaven forbid! Not a word of it. Had I minded all the strange things related of this castle, I should have died of fright in the first half hour. Why, they say, that Earl Hubert rides every night round the castle on a white horse; that the ghost of Lady Bertha haunts the west pinnacle of the chapel tower; and that Lord Hilderbrand, who was condemned for treason some sixty years ago, may be seen in the great hall, regularly at midnight, walking about without his head. Above all, they say, that the spirit of the late Countess sits nightly in her oratory, and sings her baby to sleep. Quick, quick! ere the servants quit the hall, where they are now at dinner. (Takes down a suit of armour.) Here's the helmet-the gauntlets-the shield. So now, take the truncheon in your hand, and there we have you armed cap-a-pie. (Bell sounds thrice.) Hark! 'tis the Earl; quick, to your post. (Percy ascends the pedestal.) Farewell-I must get out of his way; but as soon as he quits this chamber, I'll rejoin you.

[Exit. (The folding doors are thrown open; Sahib, Hassan, Muley, and Alaric enter, preceding Earl Osmond, who walks with his arms folded, and his eyes bent upon the ground. Saib advances to a sofa, into which, after making a few turns through the room, Osmond throws himself. He motions to his attendants, and they

withdraw. He appears lost in thought; then suddenly rises, and again traverses the room with disordered steps.)

Osm. I will not sacrifice my happiness to hers! No, Angela, you ask of me too much. Since the moment when I pierced her heart, deprived of whom, life became odious; since my sou was stained with his blood who loved me; with her s whom I loved; no form has been grateful to my eye, no voice spoken pleasure to my soul, save Angela's, save only Angela's!-Mine she is; mine she shall be, though Reginald's bleeding ghost flit before me, and thunder in my ear-"Hold, hold!" Peace, stormy heart! She comes!

Enter ANGELA.

Osm. (In a softened voice.) Come hither, Angela. Wherefore so sad? That downcast eye, that listless air, neither suit your age or fortunes. The treasures of India are lavished to adorn your person; yet, still do I see you, forgetting what you are, look back with regret to what you were.

Ang. Oh, my good lord! esteem me not ungrateful. I acknowledge your bounties; but they have not made me happy. I still linger, in thought, near those scenes where I passed the blessed period of infancy; I still thirst for those simple pleasures which habit has made so dear; the birds which my own hands reared; and the flowers which my own hands planted; the banks on which I rested when fatigued; all have acquired rights to my memory and my love.

Osm. Absurd!

Ang. While I saw you, Cheviot hills, I was happy; oh, how happy! At morn when I left my bed, light were my spirits, and gay as the zephyrs of summer; and when at night my head again pressed my pillow, I whispered to myself, "happy has been to-day, and to-morrow will be as happy!" Then sweet was my sleep; and my dreams were those whom I loved dearest.

Osm. Romantic enthusiast! These thoughts did well for the village maid, but disgrace the daughter of Sir Malcolm Mowbray. Hear me, Angela. An English baron loves you; a nobleman, than whom our island boasts few more potent. 'Tis to him that your hand is destined; 'tis on him that your heart must be bestowed.

Ang. I cannot dispose of that which has long been another's. My heart is Edwy's. Osm. Edwy's? A peasant's?

Ang. For the obscurity of his birth, chance must be blamed; the merit of his virtues belongs wholly to himself. [is & virtue.

Osm. By heaven! you seem to think that poverty Ang. Sir, I think 'tis a misfortune, not a crime. Edwy has my plighted faith. He received it on the last evening which I passed in Northumberland. It was then, that, for the first time, I gave him my hand, and I swore that I never would give it but to him! It was then, that, for the first time, he pressed his lips to mine, and I swore that my lips should never be pressed by another.

Osm. Girl, girl! you drive me to distraction!

Ang. You alarm me, my lord! Permit me to retire. (Going. Osmond detains her violently by the arm.) Osm. Stay! (In a softer tone.) Angela, I love you. Ang. (Starting.) My lord!

Osm. (Passionately.) Love you to madness. Nay, strive not to escape: remain, and hear me. I offer you my hand; if you accept it, mistress of these fair and rich domains, your days shall glide away in happiness and honour; but, if you refuse and scorn my offer, force shall this instant

Ang. Force! Oh, no! You dare not be so base.

Osm. Reflect on your situation, Angela; you are in my power. Remember it, and be wise.

Ang. If you have a generous mind, that will be my surest safeguard. Be it my plea, Osmond, when thus I sue to you for mercy, for protection. Look on me with pity, Osmond! 'Tis the daughter of the man you loved; 'tis a creature friendless, wretched, and forlorn, who kneels before you, who flies to you for refuge! True, I am in your power? then save me, respect me, treat me not cruelly; for, I am in your power! [offer? Will you accept my

Osm. I will hear no more.
Ang. Osmond, I conjure you-
Osm. Answer my question-
Ang. Mercy! Mercy!

Osm. Will you be mine?-Speak! Speak! Ang. (After a moment's pause, rises, and pronounces with firmness.) Never, so help me heaven! Osm. (Seizing her.) Your fate then is decided. (Angela Shrieks.)

Per. (In a hollow voice.) Hold! [what was that? Osm. (Starts, but still grasps Angela's arm.) Ha! Ang. (Struggling to escape.) Hark, hark! Heard you not a voice.

Osm. (Gazing upon Percy.) It came from hence! From Reginald! Was it not a delusion? Did indeed his spirit (Relapsing into his former passion.) Well, be it so! Though his ghost should rush between us, thus would I clasp her!-horror! What sight is this? (At the moment that he again seizes Angela, Percy extends his truncheon with a menacing gesture, and descends from the pedestal. Os ond releases Angela, who immediately rushes from the chamber; while Percy_advances a few steps, and remains gazing on the Earl stedfastly.) I know that shield!-that hemlet! Speak to me, dreadful vision! -tax me with my crimes!-Tell me that you come -Stay! Speak! (Following Percy, who, when he reaches the door, through which Angela escaped, turns, and signs to him with his hand. Osmond starts back in terror. He forbids my following! He leaves me! The door closes! (In a sudden burst of passion, and drawing his sword. Hell, and fiends! I'll follow him, though lightnings blast me! (He rushes distractedly from the chamber.)

SCENE.II.-The Castle Hall..
Enter ALICE.

Alice. Here's rudeness; here's ill-breeding! On my conscience, this house grows worse and worse every day!

Enter MOTLEY.

Mot. What can Earl Percy have done with himself? How now, dame Alice; you look angry. Alice. By my troth, fool, I have little reason to look pleased. To be frightened out of my wits by night, and thumped and bumped about by day, is not likely to put one in the best humonr.

Mot. Poor soul! and who has been thumping and bumping you?

Alice. Who has? You should rather ask who has not. Why only hear. As I was just now going along the narrow passage which leads to the armoury, singing to myself, and thinking of nothing, I met lady Angela flying away as if for dear life. So I dropped her a curtsey; but might as well have spared my pains. Without minding me any more than if I had been a dog or a cat, she pushed me on one side; and before I could recover my balance, somebody else, who came bouncing by me, gave me t'other thump; and there I lay sprawling upon the floor. However, I tumbled with all possible decency.

Mot. Somebody else! What somebody else? Alice. I know not; but he seemed to be in armour.

Mot. In armour! Pray, Alice, looked he like a ghost?

Alice. What he looked like, I cannot say; but I'm sure he didn't feel like one; however, you've not heard the worst. While I was sprawling upon the ground, my lord comes tearing along the passage. The first thing he did was to stumble against me. Away went his heels, over he came, and in the twinkling of an eye, there lay his lordship! As soon as he got up again, mercy, how he stormed! He snatched me up, called me an ugly old witch, shook the breath out of my body, then clapped me on the ground again, and bounced away after the other two.

Met. My mind misgives me. But what can this mean, Alice ?

Alice. The meaning I neither know nor care about: but this I know-I'll stay no longer in a house where I am treated so disrespectfully. "My lady!" says I:-"Out of my way,' says she, and pushes me on one side. "My lord," says I:"You be d-d!" says he, and pushes me on t'other! I protest I never was so ill used, even when I was a young woman. Exit. Mot. Should Earl Percy be discovered! The very thought gives me a crick in my neck. At any rate I had better enquire whether-(Going.) Enter FATHER PHILIP, hastily. F. Phil. (Stopping him.) Get out of the house! That's your way.

Mot. Why what's the meaning?

F. Phil. Don't stand prating, but do as I bid you. Mot. But first tell me

F. Phil. I can only tell you to get out of the house. Kenric has discovered Earl Percy. You are known to have introduced him. The Africans are in search of you. If you are found, you will be hung out of hand. Fly then to Edric's cottage; hide yourself there. Hark! Some one comes. Away, away, ere it is too late. (Pushing him out.) Mot. (Confused.) But Earl Percy-but AngelaF. Phil. Leave them to me. You shall hear from me soon. Only take care of yourself, and fly with all diligence. Away! [Exit Motley.] So, so, he's off; and now I've time to take breath. I've not moved so nimbly for the last twenty years; and, in truth, I'm at present but ill calculated for velocity of motion; however, my exertions have not been thrown away; I have saved this poor knave from Osmond's vengeance; and should my plan for the lady's release succeed-Poor little soul!-To see how she took on, when Percy was torn from her? Well, well, she shall be rescued from her tyrant. The moveable panels, the subterraneous passages, The secret springs well known to me. cannot fail of success; but, in order to secure it, I'll finally arrange my ideas in the buttery. Whenever I've any great design in hand, I always ask advice of a flagon of ale, and mature my plan over a cold venison-pastry. Exit.

Oh! I

SCENE III-A spacious chamber; on one side is a couch; on the other a table, which is placed under an arched and lofty window.

Enter OSMOND, followed by SAIB, HASSAN, MULEY, and ALARIC, who conduct PERCY, disarmed.

Osm. This, sir, is your prison; but doubtless, your confinement will not continue long. The mo ment which gives me Angela's hand, shall restore you to liberty; and, 'till that moment arrives, farewell.

Per. Stay, sir, and hear me. By what authority presume you to call me captive? Have you fergotten that you speak to Northumberland's Earl?

Osm. Well may 1 forget him, who could so far forget himself. Was it worthy of Northumberland's Earl to steal disguised into my castle, and plot with my servant to rob me of my most precious treasure?

Per. Mine was that treasure. You deprived me of it basely; and I was justified in striving to regain my own.

Osm. Earl, nothing can justify unworthy means. If you were wronged, why sought you not your right with your sword's point? I then should have esteemed you a noble foe, and as such would have treated you; but you have stooped to paltry artifice, and attacked me like some midnight ruffian, privately, and in disguise. By this am I authorised to forget your station, and make your penance as degrading as your offence was base.

Per. If such are indeed your sentiments, prove them now. Restore my sword, unsheathe your own, and be Angela the conqueror's reward.

Osm. No, Earl Percy. I am not so rash a gamester as to suffer that cast to be recalled, by which the stake is mine already. Angela is in my power; the only man who could wrest her from my arms has wilfully made himself my captive; such he is, and such he shall remain.

Per. Insulting coward! Osm. Be calm, Earl Percy. You forget yourself. That I am no coward, my sword has proved in the fields of Scotland. my sword shall again prove it, if, when you are restored to liberty, you still question the courage, of my heart. Angela once mine, repeat your defiance, nor doubt my answering.

Per. Angéla thine? That she shall never be. There are angels above, who favour virtue, and the hour of retribution must one day arrive.

Osm. Muley and Saib.

Both. My lord!

Osm. To your charge I commit the Earl; quit not this apartment, nor suffer him for one moment from your sight.

Saib and Muley. My lord we shall obey you.
Osm. Farewell, Earl Percy.

[Exit, attended by Hassan and Alaric.

Saib. Look, Muley, how bitterly he frowns! Muley. Now he starts from the sofa. 'Faith he's in a monstrous fury.

Saib. That may well be. When you mean to take in other people, it certainly is provoking to be taken in yourself.

Per. (After walking a few turns with a disordered air, suddenly stops.) He is gone to Angela. Gone, perhaps, to renew that outrage, whose completion my presence alone prevented.

Muley. Now he is in a deep study. Marry, if he studies himself out of this tower, he's a cleverer fellow than I take him for.

Per. Were I not Osmond's captive, all might yet be well. Summoning my vassels, who by this time must be near at hand, forcing the castle, and tearing Angela from the arms of her tyrant. Alas! my captivity has rendered this plan impracticable. And are there then no hopes of liberty.

Saib. He fixes his eyes on us.

Per. Might not these fellows-I can but try. Now, stand my friend, thou master-key to human hearts! Aid me, thou potent devil, gold! Hear me, my worthy friends. Come nearer!

. Saib. His worthy friends!

Per. My good fellows, you are charged with a disagreeable office, and to obey a tyrant's mandates cannot be pleasant to you; there is something in

your looks which has prejudiced me too much in your favour to believe it possible,

Saib. Nay, there certainly is something in our appearance highly prepossessing.

Muley. And I know that you must admire the delicacy of our complexions!

Per. The tincture of your skin, my good fellow, is of little consequence; many a worthy heart beats within a dusky bosom, and I am convinced that such an heart inhabits yours; for your looks tell me that you feel for, and are anxious to relieve my sufferings. See you this purse, my friends? Muley. It's too far off, and I am short-sighted. If you'll put it a little nearer

Per. Restore me to liberty; and not this purse alone, but ten times it value shall be yours. Saib. To liberty?

Muley. That purse? Sarb. Muley!

Muley. Saib.

Per. (Aside.) By all my hopes, they hesitate! You well know, that my wealth and power are equal, if not superior, to Ear! Osmond's: release me from my dungeon, and share that power and wealth!

+

Saib. I know not what to answer. Muley. In truth, my lord, your offers are so generous, and that purse is so tempting-Saib, what say you? (Winking at him.)

Saib. The Earl speaks so well, and promises so largely, that I own I am strangely tempted. Muley. Look you, Saib; will you stand by me? Saib. (After a moment's thought.) I will. Muley. There's my hand then. My lord, we are your servants. [to release me? Per. This is beyond my hopes. You agree then Muley. 'Tis impossible to do otherwise; for I feel that pity, generosity, and every moral feeling, command me to trouble your lordship for that purse.

Per. There it is. And now unlock the door. Muley. (Chinking the purse.) Here it is! And now I'm obliged to you. As for your promises, my lord, pray don't trouble yourself to remember them, as I sha'nt trouble myself to remember mine.

Per. (Starting.) Ha! what mean you? Saib. (Firmly.) Earl, that we are faithful. Per. What! will you not keep your word? Muley. In good troth, no: we mean to keep nothing, except the purse. [rascals.

Per. Confusion! To be made the jest of such Saib. Earl Percy, we are none. We have but done our duty; you have but gained your just reward! for they who seek to deceive others, should ever be deceived themselves.

Per. Silence, fellow! Leave me to my thoughts. (Throwing himself passionately upon the couch.) Muley. Oh! with all our hearts. We ask no Saib. Muley, we share that purse? [better. Muley. Undoubtedly. Sit down and examine its contents. (They seat themselves on the floor in the front of the stage.)

Per. How unfortunate! that the only merit of these fellows should be fidelity.

CHORUS OF VOICES. (Singing without.)

"Sing Megen-oh! Oh! Megen-Eer" Muley. Hark! What's that?

Saib. I'll see. (Mounting on the table.). This window is so high

Muley. Here, here! Take this chair. (Saib places the chair upon the table, and thus lifts himself to a level with the window, which he opens.)