A charming beverage for you to carouse, This bitter night.

Her.

Ha! Oswald! ten bright crosses I would have given, not many minutes gone, To have heard your voice.

Osro.
Your couch, I fear, good Baron,
Has been but comfortless; and yet that place,
When the tempestuous wind first drove us hither,
Felt warm as a wren's nest. You'd better turn
And under covert rest till break of day,
Or till the storm abate.

(To MARMADUKE aside). He has restored you.
No doubt you have been nobly entertained?
But soft!-how came he forth? The Night-mare
Conscience

Has driven him out of harbour?
Mar.

I believe

You have guessed right.
Her.
The trees renew their murmur:
Come, let us house together.
[OSWALD conducts him to the dungeon.
Had I not

Osw. (returns).
Esteemed you worthy to conduct the affair
To its most fit conclusion, do you think

I would so long have struggled with my Nature,
And smothered all that's man in me ?-away!-
[Looking towards the dungeon.
This man's the property of him who best
Can feel his crimes. I have resigned a privilege;

It now becomes my duty to resume it.

Mar. Touch not a finger—

Osw.
What then must be done?
Mar. Which way soe'er I turn, I am perplexed.
Osw. Now, on my life, I grieve for you. The
misery

Of doubt is insupportable. Pity, the facts
Did not admit of stronger evidence;

Twelve honest men, plain men, would set us right;
Their verdict would abolish these weak scruples.
Mar. Weak! I am weak-there does my tor-
ment lie,
Feeding itself.
Osw.
Verily, when he said
How his old heart would leap to hear her steps,
You thought his voice the echo of Idonea's.
Mar. And never heard a sound so terrible.
Osw. Perchance you think so now?
Mar.
I cannot do it:
Twice did I spring to grasp his withered throat,
When such a sudden weakness fell upon me,

I could have dropped asleep upon his breast.
Osw. Justice is there not thunder in the word?
Shall it be law to stab the petty robber
Who aims but at our purse; and shall this Par-
ricide

Worse is he far, far worse (if foul dishonour
Be worse than death) to that confiding Creature
Whom he to more than filial love and duty
Hath falsely trained-shall he fulfil his purpose?
But you are fallen.

Mar.

Fallen should I be indeed-Murder-perhaps asleep, blind, old, alone,

Betrayed, in darkness! Here to strike the blowAway! away!

Osw.

[Flings away his sword.

Nay, I have done with you :

We'll lead him to the Convent. He shall live,
And she shall love him. With unquestioned title
He shall be seated in his Barony,

And we too chant the praise of his good deeds.
I now perceive we do mistake our masters,
And most despise the men who best can teach us:
Henceforth it shall be said that bad men only
Are brave Clifford is brave; and that old Man
Is brave.

[Taking MARMADUKE's sword and giving it to him.
To Clifford's arms he would have led

His Victim-haply to this desolate house. Mar. (advancing to the dungeon). It must be ended!

Been most presumptuous. There is guilt in this, Else could so strong a mind have ever known These trepidations? Plain it is that Heaven

Has marked out this foul Wretch as one whose crimes

Must never come before a mortal judgment-seat, Or be chastised by mortal instruments.

Mar. A thought that's worth a thousand worlds! [Goes towards the dungeon.

Osw. I grieve That, in my zeal, I have caused you so much pain. Mar. Think not of that! 'tis over-we are safe. Osw. (as if to himself, yet speaking aloud). The truth is hideous, but how stifle it?

Osw.

What! dogged like thieves !

Enter WALLACE and LACY, &c.

Lacy. You are found at last, thanks to the vagrant Troop

For not misleading us.

Were there a Man who, being weak and helpless
And most forlorn, should bribe a Mother, pressed
By penury, to yield him up her Daughter,
A little Infant, and instruct the Babe,
Prattling upon his knee, to call him Father-

Lacy. Why, if his heart be tender, that offence I could forgive him.

Mar. (going on). And should he make the Child An instrument of falsehood, should he teach her To stretch her arms, and dim the gladsome light Of infant playfulness with piteous looks Of misery that was not

Or own we baby Spirits? Genuine courage

Is not an accidental quality,

A thing dependent for its casual birth
On opposition and impediment.

Wisdom, if Justice speak the word, beats down
The giant's strength; and, at the voice of Justice,
Spares not the worm. The giant and the worm—
She weighs them in one scale. The wiles of woman,
And craft of age, seducing reason, first
Made weakness a protection, and obscured
The moral shapes of things. His tender cries
And helpless innocence-do they protect
The infant lamb and shall the infirmities,
Which have enabled this enormous Culprit
To perpetrate his crimes, serve as a Sanctuary
To cover him from punishment? Shame !-Justice,
Admitting no resistance, bends alike

Where Souls are self-defended, free to grow
Like mountain oaks rocked by the stormy wind.
Mark the Almighty Wisdom, which decreed
This monstrous crime to be laid open-here,
Where Reason has an eye that she can use,
And Men alone are Umpires. To the Camp
He shall be led, and there, the Country round
All gathered to the spot, in open day
Shall Nature be avenged.

Osw.

He

'Tis nobly thought; His death will be a monument for ages. Mar. (to LACY). I thank you for that hiut. shall be brought Before the Camp, and would that best and wisest Of every country might be present. There, His crime shall be proclaimed; and for the rest It shall be done as Wisdom shall decide : Meanwhile, do you two hasten back and see That all is well prepared. Wal. We will obey you., (Aside). But softly! we must look a little nearer. Mar. Tell where you found us. At some future

time

[Exeunt.

SCENE, the door of the Hostel, a group of Pilgrims as
before; IDONEA and the Host among them.
Host. Lady, you'll find your Father at the Convent
As I have told you: He left us yesterday
With two Companions; one of them, as seemed,
His most familiar Friend. (Going.) There was a
letter

Of which I heard them speak, but that I fancy
Has been forgotten.

Idon. (to Host). Farewell!

Host.

Gentle pilgrims, St. Cuthbert speed you on your holy errand.

[Exeunt IDONEA and Pilgrims.

SCENE, a desolate Moor.

OSWALD (alone).

Osw. Carry him to the Camp! Yes, to the Camp. Oh, Wisdom! a most wise resolve! and then, That half a word should blow it to the winds! This last device must end my work.—Methinks It were a pleasant pastime to construct A scale and table of belief-as thusTwo columns, one for passion, one for proof;

Each rises as the other falls: and first, Passion a unit and against us-proofNay, we must travel in another path,

Or we 're stuck fast for ever;-passion, then,
Shall be a unit for us; proof-no, passion!
We'll not insult thy majesty by time,

Person, and place the where, the when, the how,
And all particulars that dull brains require
To constitute the spiritless shape of Fact,
They bow to, calling the idol, Demonstration.
A whipping to the Moralists who preach
That misery is a sacred thing: for me,
I know no cheaper engine to degrade a man,
Nor any half so sure. This Stripling's mind
Is shaken till the dregs float on the surface;
And, in the storm and anguish of the heart,
He talks of a transition in his Soul,
And dreams that he is happy. We dissect
The senseless body, and why not the mind?—
These are strange sights the mind of man,
upturned,

Is in all natures a strange spectacle ;

In some a hideous one-hem! shall I stop?
No.-Thoughts and feelings will sink deep, but then
They have no substance. Pass but a few minutes,
And something shall be done which Memory
May touch, whene'er her Vassals are at work.

When I returned with water from the brook,
I overheard the Villains every word
Like red-hot iron burnt into my heart.
Said one," It is agreed on. The blind Man
Shall feign a sudden illness, and the Girl,
Who on her journey must proceed alone,
Under pretence of violence, be seized.
She is," continued the detested Slave,

"She is right willing-strange if she were not!—
They say, Lord Clifford is a savage man;
But, faith, to see him in his silken tunic,
Fitting his low voice to the minstrel's harp,
There's witchery in't. I never knew a maid
That could withstand it. True," continued he,
"When we arranged the affair, she wept a little

I did believe all things were shadows-yea,
Living or dead all things were bodiless,
Or but the mutual mockeries of body,
Till that same star summoned me back again.
Now I could laugh till my ribs ached. Oh Fool!
To let a creed, built in the heart of things,
Dissolve before a twinkling atom !—Oswald,
I could fetch lessons out of wiser schools
Than you have entered, were it worth the pains.
Young as I am, I might go forth a teacher,
And you should see how deeply I could reason
Of love in all its shapes, beginnings, ends;
Of moral qualities in their diverse aspects;
Of actions, and their laws and tendencies.
Osw. You take it as it merits-
Mar.

One a King,