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Glen. What do you know? by Heaven, You much amaze me! No created thing, Yourself except, durst thus accost me. Lady R. Is guilt so bold 2 and dost thou make a merit Of thy pretended meekness 2 Thus to me, Who, with a gentleness which duty blames, Have hitherto conceal’d what, if divulged, Would make thee nothing; or, what's worse than that, An outcast beggar, and unpitied too: For mortals shudder at a crime like thine. Glen. Thy virtue awes me. First of womankind! Permit me yet to say, that the fond man, Whom love transports beyond strict virtue's bounds, If he is brought by love to misery, In fortune ruin'd, as in mind forlorn, Unpitied cannot be. Pity's the alms, Which, on such beggars, freely is bestowed; For mortals know, that love is still their lord, And o'er their vain resolves advances still ; As fire, when kindled by our shepherds, moves Through the dry heath before the fanning wind. Lady R. Reserve these accents for some other ear. To love's apology I listen not. Mark thou my words; for it is meet thou shouldst. His brave deliverer Randolph here retains. Perhaps his presence may not please thee well: But, at thy peril, practise aught against him: Let not thy jealousy attempt to shake And loosen the good root he has in Randolph ; Whose favourites I know thou hast supplanted. Thou look'st at me, as if thou fain wouldst pry Into my heart. "Tis open as my speech. I give this early caution, and put on The curb, before thy temper breaks away. The friendless stranger my protection claims: His friend I am, and be not thou his foe. [Exit

Gien. Child that I was, to start at my own shadow, And be the shallow fool of coward conscience ! I am not what I have been ; what I should be. The darts of destiny have almost pierced My marble heart. Had I one grain of faith In holy legends, and religious tales, I should conclude, there was an arın above That fought against me, and malignant turn'd, To catch myself, the subtle snare I set. Why, rape and murder are not simple means ! Th’imperfect rape to Randolph gave a spouse ; And the intended murder introduced A favourite to hide the sun from me; And, worst of all, a rival. Burning hell! This were thy centre, if I thought she loved him! 'Tis certain she contemns me; nay, commands me, And waves the flag of her displeasure o'er me, In his behalf. And shall I thus be braved ? Curb'd, as she calls it, by dame Chastity ? Infernal fiends, if any fiends there are More fierce than love, ambition, and revenge, Rise

up, and fill my bosom with your fires ! Darkly a project peers upon my mind, Like the red moon when rising in the east, Cross’d and divided by strange-coloured clouds. I'll seek the slave who came with Norval hither, And for his cowardice was spurned from him. I've known such follower's rankled bosom breed Venom most fatal to his heedless lord. [Exeunt


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Enter ANNA.
Anna. Thy vassals, grief, great nature's order break
And change the noontide to the midnight hour.
Whilst Lady Randolph rests I will walk forth,
And taste the air that breathes on yonder bank.

Serv. One of the vile assassins is secured,
That struck this inorning at Lord Randolph's life.
We found the villain lurking in the wood ;
With dreadful imprecations he denies
All knowledge of the crime. But this is not
His first essay : these jewels were conceal'd
In the most secret places of his garment;
Belike the spoils of some, that he has murder'd.

Anna. Let me look on them. Ha! here is a heart
The chosen crest of Douglas' valiant name!
These are no vulgar jewels. Guard the wretch.

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[Exit ANNA

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Pris. I know no more than does the child unborn
Of what you charge me with.

1st Serv. You say, so, sir ! But torture soon shall make you speak the truth. Behold, the lady of Lord Randolph comes ; Prepare yourself to meet her just revenge.

Enter Lady RANDOLPH and ANNA. Anna. Summon your utmost fortitude before You speak with him. Your dignity, your fame, Are now at stake. Think of the fatal secret, Which in a moment from your lips may fly. Lady R. Thou shalt behold me, with a desperate

heart, Hear how my infant perish'd. See, he kneels.

[The PRISONER kneels. Pris. Heav'n bless that countenance, so sweet and

mild ! A judge like thee makes innocence more bold. [Rises.] Oh, save me, lady! from these cruel men, Who have attack'd and seized me; who accuse Me of intended murder. As I hope For mercy at the judgment seat of Heaven, The tender lamb, that never nipt the grass Is not more innocent than I of murder. Lady R. Of this man's guilt what proof can ye

ist. Serv. We found him lurking in the hollow

When view'd and call'd upon, amazed he fled;
We overtook him, and inquired from whence
And what he was : he said he came from far,
And was upon his journey to the camp..
Not satisfied with this, we search’d his clothes,
And found these jewels; whose rich value plead
Most powerfully against him. Hard he seems,
And old in villainy. Permit us to try
His stubbornness against the torture's force.

Pris. Oh, gentle lady! by your lord's dear life,
Which these weak hands, I swear, did ne'er assail,
And by your children's welfare, spare my age !
Let not the iron tear my ancient joints,
And my grey hairs bring to the grave with pain.

Lady R. Account for these; thine own they cannot

be; For these, I say: be stedfast to the truth; Detected falsehood is most certain death.

[Axxa temores the SERVANTS, and returns
Pris. Alas! I'm sore beset ! let never man,
For sake of lucre, sin against his soul!
Eternal Justice is in this most just!
I, guiltless now, must former guilt reveal.
Lady R. Oh! Anna, hear once more I charge

thee, speak
The truth direct; for these to me foretell
And certify a part of thy narration,
With which if the remainder tallies not,
An instant and a dreadful death abides thee.

Pris. Then, thus adjured, I'll speak to you as just
As if you were the minister of Heaven,
Sent down to search the secret sins of men.
Some eighteen years ago, I rented land,
Of brave Sir Malcolm, then Balarmo's lord ;
But falling to decay, his servants seized
All that I had, and then turn'd me and mine
(Four helpless infants, and their weeping mother)
Out to the mercy of the winter winds.
A little hovel by the river's side
Received us ; there hard labour, and the skill
In fishing, which was formerly my sport,
Supported life. Whilst thus we poorly lived,
One stormy night, as I remember well,
The wind and rain beat hard upon our roof;
Red came the river down, and loud and oft
The angry spirit of the water shriek’d.
At the dead hour of night was heard the cry
Of one in jeopardy. I rose, and ran
To where the circling eddy of a pool,
Beneath the ford, used oft to bring within
My reach whatever floating thing the stream
Had caught. The voice was ceased;


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