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6 Anna. The moments of deliberation pass,
5 And soon you must resolve. This useful man
• Must be dismiss'd in safety, c'er my lord
6 Shall with his brave doliverer return.'

Old Norv. If I, amidst astonishment and fear,
Have of your words and gestures rightly judgd,
Thou art the daughter of my ancient master;
The child I rescued from the flood is thine.

Lady-Rand. With thee dissimulation now were vain.
I am indeed the daughter of Sir Malcolm;
The child thou rescu'd'st from the flood is mine.

[Embracing him.
Old Noro. Blest be the hour that made me a poor man!
My poverty hath sav'd my master's house!
Lady Rand. Thy words surprize me : sure thou dost

not feign :
The tear stands in thine eye: such love from thee
Sir Malcolm's house deserv'd not; if aright
Thou told'st the story of thy own distress.

Old Norv. Sir Malcolm of our barons was the flower;
The fastest friend, the best and kindest master.
But ah! he knew not of

my

sad estate.
After that battle, where his gallant son,
Your own brave brother, fell, the good old lord
Grew desperate and reckless of the world;
And never, as he erst was wont, went forth
To overlook the conduct of his servants.
By them I was thrust out, and them I blame:
May Heaven so judge me as I judge my master!
And God so love me as I love his race!

Lady Rund. His race shall yet reward thee; and For what his age neglected. On thy faith

[make up Depends the fate of thy lov'd master's house. Rememb’rest thou a little lonely hut, That like a holy hermitage appears Among the clifts of Carron?

Old Norv. I remember The cottage of the clifts.

Lady Rand. 'Tis that I mean: There dwells a man of venerable age,

Who in my father's service spent his youth :
Tell him I sent thee, and with him remain,
Till I shall call upon thee to declare,
Before the king and nobles, what thou now
To me hast told. No more but this, and thou
Shalt live in honour all thy future days;
Thy son so long shall call thee father still,
And all the land shall bless the man who sav'd
The son of Douglas and Sir Malcolm's heir.
Remember well my words: if thou should'st meet
Him whom thou call'st thy son, still call him so;
And mention nothing of his nobler father.

Old Norv. Fear not that I shall mar so fair an harvest,
By putting in my sickle ere 'tis ripe.
Why did I leave my home and ancient dame?
To find the youth, to tell him all I knew,
And make him wear these jewels in his arms;
Which might, I thought, be challeng'd, and so bring
To light the secret of his noble birth.

[Lady R.

goes towards the servants. Lady Rand. This man is not th' assassin you suspected, Tho' chance combin'd some likelihoods against him. He is the faithful bearer of the jewels To their right owner, whom in his haste he seeks. 'Tis meet that you should put him on his way, Since your mistaken zeal hath dragg’d him hither.

[Exeunt Old Norval and Servants. My faithful Anna! dost thou share my joy? I know thou dost. Unparallell’d event! Reaching from heaven to earth, Jehovah's arm Snatch'd from the waves, and brings to me my son! Judge of the widow, and the orphan's father! * Accept a widow's and a mother's thanks For such a gift! What does my Anna think Of the young eaglet of a valiant nest ? How soon he gaz'd on bright and burning arms, Left the low station where his lot had thrown him, And tower'd up to the region of his sire!

* " He is a father to the fatherless, and defendeth the cause of the " widows: even God in his holy habitation.” Psalm LXVIII. 5.See p. 304. Note.

Anna. How fondly did your eyes devour the boy!
Alive to each thing barely possible,
Thro' years of eager looking for your son,
Your mind is forward in refind conjecture;
And mother's eyes will catch a father's face
In features which no other eye would notice.

Lady Rand. Yet not enough was there to form a
Not e'en to say within myself, Is't he ? (judgment,
How I now long to see his face again,
Examine every feature, and find ouť
The lineaments of Douglas, or my own.
But, most of all, I long to let him know
Who his true parents are, to clasp his neck,
And tell him all the story of his father.
Anna. With

wary
caution

you must bear yourself
In public, lest your tenderness break forth,
And in observers stir conjectures strange.
• For, if a cherub in the shape of woman

Should walk this world, yet defamation would,

Like a vile cur, bark at the angel's train—' To-day the baron started at your tears.

Lady Rand. He did so, Anna! well thy mistress If the least circumstance, mote of offence, [knows, Should touch the baron's eye, * his sight would be With jealousy disorder'd. But the more It does behove me instant to declare The birth of Douglas, and assert his rights. This night I purpose with my son to meet, Reveal the secret and consult with him : For wise he is, or my fond judgment errs. As he does now, so look'd his noble father, Array'd in nature's ease: his mien, his speech, Were sweetly simple, and full oft deceivid Those trivial mortals who seem always wise. But, when the matter match'd his mighty mind, Uprose the Hero: on his piercing eye Sat Observation; on each glance of thought Decision follow'd,+ as the thunder-bolt Pursues the flash.

*". A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye." Hamlet, A. I. S. 1. + There is a passage in Archbishop Newcome's Observations on Our Loril's Conduct, on decision of judgment, 80 excellent, that I eannot forego this opportunity of presenting it to the reader:

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Anna. That demon haunts

you

still: Behold Glenalvon.

Lady Rand. Now I shun him not.
This day I brav'd him in behalf of Norval;
Perhaps too far: at least my nicer fears
For Douglas thus interpret.

Enter GLEN ALVON.
Glen. Noble dame!
The hov'ring Dane at last his men hath landed:
No band of pirates; but a mighty host,
'That come to settle where their valour conquers;
To win a country, or to lose themselves.
Lady Rand. But whence comes this intelligence,

Glenalvon?
Glen. A nimble courier sent from yonder camp,
To hasten up the chieftains of the north,
Inform’d me, as he past, that the fierce Dane
Had on the eastern coast of Lothian landed,
* Near to that place where the sea rock immense,
Amazing Bass looks o’er a fertile land.

Lady Rand. Then must this western army march to
The warlike troops that guard Edena's tow'rs. (join

Glen. Beyond all question. If impairing time " Has not effac'd the image of a place, • Once perfect in my breast, there is a wild

" I shall end the remarks under this head with the words of a "*most eminent author, though I think that, ibrough haste of writing, “ too weak an expression has escaped him,

"" There is scarce any thing which proves both wisdom and right

ness of mind more fully, than proper behaviour on sudden occa. "S sions, and proper answers to unforeseen questions : for what a

man shews hisiself to be at such times, we have in general great cause to believe he really is. Now to this trial our Saviour, living a public life, in the midst of persons taking all advantages to in.

snore him, was perpetually exposed; and his character never suf. fered hy it.' It wiis indeed exalted by every such oceasion of " shewing, his wisdom and sedateness ; inson uch that bis enemies “ were ashamed, amazed, and silenced; nay, even paid him the unwilling tribute of public approbation." 21. Ed. S. viii, p. 131. ** Secker's Sermons, Vol. iv. p. 206, Engl.

, ed.”

Which lies to 'westward of that mighty rock, < And seems by nature formed for the camp

Of water-wafted armies, whose chief strength
• Lies in firm foot, unflank'd with warlike horse:
< If martial skill directs the Danish lords,
« There inaccessible their army lies

To our swift-scow'ring horse, the bloody field
Must man to man, and foot to foot, be fought.'

Lady Rand. How many mothers shall bewail their How many widows

weep

their husbands slain! (sons !
Ye dames of Denmark! e'en for you I feel,
Who, sadly sitting on the sea-beat shore,
Long look for lords that never shall return.

Glen. Oft has the unconquer'd Caledonian sword
Widow'd the north. The children of the slain
Come, as I hope, to meet their fathers' fate.
The monster war, with her infernal brood,
Loud-yelling fury, and life-ending pain,
Are objects suited to Glenalvon's soul.
Scorn is more grievous than the pains of death;
Reproach more piercing than the pointed sword.

Lady Rand. I scorn thee not, but when I ought to
Nor e'er reproach, but when insulted virtue [scorn;
Against audacious vice asserts herself.
I own thy worth, Glenalvon; none more apt
Than I to praise thine eminence in arms,
And be the echo of thy martial fame.
No longer vainly feed a guilty passion :
Go and pursue a lawful mistress, glory.
Upon the Danish crests redeem thy fault,
And let thy valour be the shield of Randolph.

Glen. One instant stay, and hear an alter'd man.
When beauty pleads for virtue, vice abash'd
Flies it's own colours, and goes o'er to virtue.
I am your convert; time will shew how truly:
Yet one immediate proof I mean to give.
That youth, for whom your ardent zeal to-day,
Somewhat too haughtily, defy'd your slave,
Amidst the shock of armies l'll defend,
And turn death from him, with a guardian arm.

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