« PreviousContinue »
Rude I am,
Y. Noro. I know not how to thank
say, that Norval ne'er will shame thy favour. Lady Rund. I have no doubt thou wilt not. Thoa
shalt be Ny knight; and ever, as thou didst to-day, With happy valour guard the life of Randolph. Lord Rand. Well hast thou spoke. Let me forbid reply.
Y. Noro. Let us begone, my lord.
[Exeunt Lord Randolph and Y. Norval. Lady Rand. His parting words have struck a fatal O Douglas ! Douglas! tender was the time [truth.
* " Rude am I in my speech. Othello, A. 1. 8. III.
Though I be rude in speech”. 2 Cor. xt. 6. +
" Would thou had'st less deserv'd; " That the proportiou both of thanks and payment " Might have been mine! only I have left to say, " More is thy due thau more than all can pay.
Macbeth, A. I. S. IV.
When we two parted, ne'er to meet again!
Oft, as blown back by the rude breath of fear, • Return'd, and with redoubled ardour blaz’d.'
Anna. May gracious Heav'n pour the sweet balm of Into the wounds that fester in your breast! [peace For earthly consolation cannot cure them.
Lady Rand. One only cure can Heav'n itself bestow; A grave—that bed in which the weary rest.*
Anna. O say not so, my dearest lady. Heav'n
am I so wretched?
peers: Whilst I to a dead husband bore a son, And to the roaring waters gave my
Lady Rand. Delighted say'st thou? Oh! even there
*“ Which rejoice exceedingly, and are glad, when they find the grave." -" There the weary be at rest.
Job u. 22. 17. " A woman, when she is in travail, hath sorrow, because her “ hour is come: but as soon as she is delivered of the child, she " remembereth no more the anguisb for joy that a man is born into the " world."
Joho XVI. 21.
Found fuel for my life-consuming sorrow.
Anna. Sure Heav'n will bless so gen'rous a resolve.
'Tis pleasing to admire! most apt was I * To this affection in my better days;
Though now I seem to you shrunk up, retird " Within the narrow compass of my woe. Have
you not sometimes seen an early flower Open it's bud, and spread it's silken leaves, • To catch sweet airs, and odours to bestow; Then, by the keen blast nipt, pull in it's leaves, And, tho' still living, die to scent and beauty?
Emblem of me: affliction, like a storm, I Hath kill'd the forward blossom of
heart.' Enter GLEN ALVON. Glen. Where is my dearest kinsman, noble Randolph? Lady Rand. Have you not heard, Glenalvon, of the
*" I will have pity on this youth's distress, " And cultivate his fortune."
Merope, A. 11. ,
Glen. I have: and that the villains may not 'scape,
Lady Rand. That care becomes a kinsman's love.
Glen. To him your counsels always are commands. Lady Rand. I have not found so: thou art known to Glen. Known!
[me. Lady Rand. And most certain is my cause of know
ledge. Glen. What do you know?* You much amaze me. No created thing, Yourself except, durst thus accost Glenaiton. Lady Rand. Is guilt so bold? and dost thou make a
merit Of thy pretended meekness? This to me; Who, with a gentleness which duty blames, Have hitherto conceal'd what, if divulg'd, 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!
that the fond man
* The-8vo copy here adds “ By the most blessed cross,” which is altered in the 12mo. to " By Heav'n'. This is certainly an amendment ; but if this was altered, as being Popish and idolatrous, it is wonderful that the same judgment did not correct the prayers to angels, and ihe other improprieties of the piece,
Lady Rand. Reserve these accents for some other ear. To love's apology I listen not. Mark thou my words; for it is meet thou should'st. His brave deliverer Randolph here retains. Perhaps his presence inay not please thee well: But, at thy peril, practise ought 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 would'st 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.
Glen. 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 pierc'd My marble heart. Had I one grain of faith In holy legends and religious tales, I should conclude there was an arm 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 introduc'd A favourite to hide the sun from me; And worst of all, a rival. Tow'ring mischief! This were thy summit, if I thought she lov'd 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 brav'd? Curb'd as she calls it, by dame chastity? Darkly a project peers upon my mind, Like the red moon when rising in the east, Cross'd and divided by strange-colour'd clouds. I'll seek the slave who came with Norval hither, And for his cowardice was spurned from him. I've known a follower's rankled bosom breed Venom most fatal to his heedless lord.