Haste, brave men! Collect your friends, to join us on the instant; Sound freedom, till the undulation shake [Exeunt Dalecarlans, shouting. Rev. John Home. DOUGLAS. LADY RANDOLPH, Widow of EARL DOUGLAS, is married to LORD RanDuring an Incursion of the Danes, NORVAL, a supposed DOLPH. On his young Peasant, fired with youthful ardour, seeks the Camp. way, he saves the Life of RANDOLPH, who is attacked by Robbers, and becomes his Favourite. LADY RANDOLPH mourns her lost Husband and her infant Child, the Son of DOUGLAS. A Prisoner is taken on the outskirts of the Camp, supposed to be one of the Robbers who attacked LORD RANDOLPH. On the Prisoner's person are found Jewels, with the Crest of DOUGLAS: these are conveyed to LADY RANDOLPH by ANNA, her Confidante, and the following Scene takes place. Enter Servants, with a Prisoner. Pris. I know no more than does the child unborn Of what you charge me with. 1 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 perished. See, he kneels. Pris. Heaven bless that countenance, so sweet and mild ! A judge like thee makes innocence more bold. For mercy at the judgment-seat of Heaven, Lady R. Of this man's guilt what proof can ye produce? 1 Serv. We found him lurking in the hollow glen. 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 gray hairs bring to the grave with pain. Lady R. Account for these; thine own they cannot be : For these, I say: be steadfast to the truth; Detected falsehood is most certain death. [ANNA removes the Servants, and returns. Pris. Alas! I'm sore beset. Let never man, For sake of lucre, sin against his soul! I, guiltless now, must former guilt reveal. Lady R. O, 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. Received us; there hard labour, and the skill Had caught. The voice was ceased; the person lost; But, looking sad and earnest on the waters, By the moon's light I saw, whirled round and round, And, nestled curious, there an infant lay. Lady R. Was he alive? Pris. He was. Lady R. Inhuman that thou art! How couldst thou kill what waves and tempests spared? Pris. I am not so inhuman. The needy man who has known better days, Who saw no end of black adversity: Yet, for the wealth of kingdoms, I would not Have touched that infant with a hand of harm. Lady R. Ha! dost thou say so? then perhaps he lives! Pris. Not many days ago he was alive. Lady R. O God of heaven! did he then die so lately? Pris. I did not say he died; I hope he lives. Not many days ago these eyes beheld Him flourishing in youth, and health, and beauty. Pris. Alas! I know not where. Lady R. O Fate! I fear thee still. Thou riddler, speak Direct and clear; else I will search thy soul. Pris. Fear not my faith, though I must speak my shame : Within the cradle where the infant lay, Was stowed a mighty store of gold and jewels; From all the world this wonderful event, And like a peasant breed the noble child. Meanwhile the stripling grew in years and beauty; And, as we oft observed, he bore himself, For nature will break out: mild with the mild, But all in vain: for when a desperate band Lady R. Eternal Providence! what is thy name? Pris. My name is Norval; and my name he bears. Lady R. 'Tis he-'tis he himself! It is my son! O Sovereign Mercy! 'twas my child I saw ! Pris. If I, amidst astonishment and fear, Have of your words and gestures rightly judged, Lady R. With thee, dissimulation now were vain. |