Lord Rand. Why did this soldier in a desert

hide

Those qualities that should have graced a camp?. Norv. That too at last I learn'd. Unhappy

man!

Returning homeward by Messina's port,
Loaded with wealth and honours bravely won,
A rude and boist'rous captain of the sea
Fasten'd a quarrel on him. Fierce they fought:
The stranger fell, and with his dying breath
Declared his name and lineage. Mighty power!
The soldier cried, my brother! Oh my brother!
Lady Rand. His brother!

Norv. Yes; of the same parents born;
His only brother. They exchanged forgiveness:
And happy, in my mind, was he that died;
For many deaths has the survivor suffer'd.
In the wild desart on a rock he sits,

Or on some nameless stream's untrodden banks,
And ruminates all day his dreadful fate.
At times, alas! not in his perfect mind,
Holds dialogues with his loved brother's ghost:
And oft each night forsakes his sullen couch,
To make sad orisons for him he slew.

Lady Rand. To what mysterious woes are mortals born!

In this dire tragedy, were there no more
Unhappy persons? Did the parents live?

Norv. No; they were dead: kind Heaven had closed their eyes

Before their son had shed his brother's blood. Lord Rand. Hard is his fate; for he was not

to blame!

There is a destiny in this strange world,

Which oft decrees an undeserved doom: Let schoolmen tell us why.-From whence these sounds? [Trumpets at a distance.

Enter an Officer.

Off. My lord, the trumpets of the troops of Lorn: The valiant leader hails the noble Randolph. Lord Rand. Mine ancient guest? does he the warriors lead ?

Has Denmark roused the brave old knight to arms?

Off. No; worn with warfare, he resigns the

sword.

His eldest hope, the valiant John of Lorn,
Now leads his kindred bands.

Lord Rand. Glenalvon, go,

With hospitality's most strong request

Entreat the chief.

[Exit GLENALVON.

Off. My lord, requests are vain.

He urges on impatient of delay,

Stung with the tidings of the foe's approach.

Lord Rand. May victory sit on the warrior's

plume!

Bravest of men! his flocks and herds are safe;
Remote from war's alarms his pastures lie,
By mountains inaccessible secured:

Yet foremost he into the plain descends,
Eager to bleed in battles not his own.
Such were the heroes of the ancient world;
Contemners they of indolence and gain;
But still, for love of glory and of arms,
Prone to encounter peril, and to lift
Against each strong antagonist the spear.
go and press the hero to my breast.

I'll

[Exit RANDOLPH.

Manent Lady RANDOLPH and NORVAL.

Lady Rand. The soldier's loftiness, the pride

and pomp

Investing awful war, Norval, I see,
Transport thy youthful mind.

Norv. Ah! should they not?

Blest be the hour I left my father's house!
I might have been a shepherd all my days,
And stole obscurely to a peasant's grave.
Now, if I live, with mighty chiefs I stand;
And, if I fall, with noble dust I lie.

Lady Rand. There is a gen'rous spirit in thy

breast,

That could have well sustain'd a prouder fortune.
This way
with me; under yon spreading beech,
Unseen, unheard, by human eye or ear,

I will amaze thee with a wondrous tale.

Norv. Let there be danger, lady, with the se

cret,

That I may hug it to my grateful heart,

And prove my faith.

life;

Command my sword, my

These are the sole possessions of poor Norval.
Lady Rand. Know'st thou these gems ?
Norv. Durst I believe mine eyes,

I'd say I knew them, and they were my father's. Lady Rand. Thy father's, say'st thou? Ah! they were thy father's!

Norv. I saw them once, and curiously inquired Of both my parents, whence such splendour came; But I was check'd, and more could never learn. Lady Rand. Then learn of me, thou art not Norval's son.

Norv. Not Norval's son!

Lady Rand. Nor of a shepherd sprung.

Norv. Lady, who am I then?

Lady Rand. Noble thou art;

For noble was thy sire!

Norv. I will believe

O, tell me farther! Say, who was my father?
Lady Rand. Douglas!

Norv. Lord Douglas, whom to-day I saw?

Lady Rand. His younger brother.

Norv. And in yonder camp

Lady Rand. Alas!

Norv. You make metremble-Sighs and tears!—

Lives my brave father?

Lady Rand. Ah! too brave indeed!

He fell in battle ere thyself was born.

Norv. Ah me, unhappy! ere I saw the light? But does my mother live? I may conclude, From my own fate, her portion has been sorrow.