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Doug. Revenge! for what?


O. Norv. For being what you are;
Sir Malcolm's heir: how else have you
When they were gone, I hied me to my cottage,
And there sat musing how I best might find
Means to inform you of their wicked purpose.
But I could think of none: at last perplex'd
I issued forth, encompassing the tower
With many a weary step and wishful look.
Now Providence hath brought you to my sight,
Let not your too-courageous spirit scorn
The caution which I give.

Doug. I scorn it not.

My mother warn'd me of Glenalvon's baseness:
But I will not suspect the noble Randolph.
In our encounter with the vile assassins,

I mark'd his brave demeanor: him I'll trust.
O. Norv. I fear you will too far.
Doug. Here in this place

I wait my mother's coming: she shall know
What thou hast told: her counsel I will follow:
And cautious ever are a mother's counsels.
You must depart; your presence may prevent
Our interview.

O. Norv. My blessing rest upon thee!

O may Heaven's hand, which sav'd thee from the wave,
And from the sword of foes, be near thee still;
Turning mischance, if ought hangs o'er thy head,
All upon mine!


Doug. He loves me like a parent;

And must not, shall not lose the son he loves,
Altho' his son has found a nobler father.
Eventful day! how hast thou chang'd my state!
Once on the cold, and winter-shaded side
Of a bleak hill, mischance had rooted me,
Never to thrive, child of another soil:
Transplanted now to the gay sunny vale,
Like the green thorn of May, my fortune flowers.
Should Heav'n inspire some fierce gigantic Dane,
To give a bold defiance to our host,

Before he speaks it out I will accept;
Like Douglas conquer, or like Douglas die.*
Enter Lady RANDOLPH.

Lady Rand. My son! I heard a voice-
Doug. -The voice was mine.


Lady Rand. Didst thou complain aloud to nature's That thus in dusky shades, at mid-night hours, By stealth the mother and the son should meet?

[Embracing him. Doug. No; on this happy day, this better birth-day, My thoughts and words are all of hope and joy.

Lady Rand. Sad fear and melancholy still divide
The empire of my breast with hope and joy.
Now hear what I advise.

Doug. First, let me tell

What may the tenor of your counsel change.
Lady Rand. My heart forebodes some evil!
Doug. 'Tis not good.

At eve, unseen by Randolph and Glenalvon,
The good old Norval in the grove o'erheard
Their conversation: oft they mention'd me
With dreadful threatnings; you they sometimes nam'd.
'Twas strange they said, a wonderful discov'ry;
And ever and anon they vow'd revenge.

Lady Rand. Defend us, gracious God! we are betray'd:
They have found out the secret of thy birth;
It must be so. That is the great discovery.
Sir Malcolm's heir is come to claim his own;
And they will be reveng'd.+ Perhaps even now,
Arm'd and prepar'd for murder, they but wait
A darker and more silent hour, to break
Into the chamber where they think thou sleep'st.

* Alluding to David and Goliath. See before, p. 279. Note* See also p. 303, and Note +.

+"When the husbandmen saw him, they reasoned among "themselves, saying, This is the heir: come, let us kill him, that "the inheritance may be ours." Luke xx. 14. See also Matt. XXI, 38. and Mark XII. 7.

This moment, this, Heav'n hath ordain'd to save thee!
Fly to the camp, my son!

Doug. And leave you here?

No: to the castle let us go together,
Call up the ancient servants of your house,
Who in their youth did eat your father's bread.
Then tell them loudly that I am your son.

If in the breasts of men one spark remains
Of sacred love, fidelity, or pity,

Some in your cause will arm. I ask but few
To drive those spoilers from my father's house.

Lady Rand. Thy courage, ardent youth, sees no obstructions.

Thou genuine offspring of the daring Douglas!
But rush not on destruction: save thyself,
And I am safe. To me they mean no harm.
Thy stay but risks thy precious life in vain.
That winding path conducts thee to the river.
Cross where thou seest a broad and beaten way,
Which running eastward leads thee to the camp.
Instant demand admittance to Lord Douglas.
Shew him these jewels, which his brother wore.
Thy look, thy voice, will make him feel the truth,
Which I by certain proof will soon confirm.

Doug. I yield me and obey: but yet my heart
Bleeds at this parting. Something bids me stay
And guard a mother's life. Oft have I read
Of wond'rous deeds by one bold arm atchiev'd.
Our foes are two; no more: let me go forth,
And see if any shield can guard Glenalvon.

Lady Rand. If thou regard'st thy mother, or rever'st
Thy father's mem'ry, think of this no more.
One thing I have to say before we part:

Long wert thou lost; and thou art found, my child,
In a most fearful season. War and battle
I have great cause to dread. Too well I see
Which way the current of thy temper sets.
To-day I've found thee: Oh! my long-lost hope!
If thou to giddy valour giv'st the rein,

To-morrow I may lose my son for ever.


The love of thee, before thou saw'st the light,
Sustain'd my life when thy brave father fell..
If thou shalt fall, I have nor love nor hope
In this waste world! my son, remember me!

Doug. What shall I say? how can I give you comfort? The God of battles of my life dispose

As may be best for you! for whose dear sake
I will not bear myself as I resolv'd.
But, yet, consider, as no vulgar name
That which I boast sounds amongst martial men,
How will inglorious caution suit my claim?
The post of danger dauntless I'll maintain.
My country's foes must witness who I am.
On the invaders' heads I'll prove my birth,
Till friends and foes confess the genuine strain.
If in this strife I fall, blame not your son,
Who, if he lives not honour'd, would not live.

Lady Rand. I will not utter what my bosom feels.
Too well I love that valour which I warn.
Farewell, my son! my counsels may be weak:


I give my best, then bow to Heav'n's high will.


Gaze not, on me, thou wilt mistake the path;
I'll point it out again.


[Just as they are separating, enter from the wood Lord RANDOLPH and GLENALVON.] Lord Rand. Not in her presence.


Glen. I'm prepar'd.

Lord Rand. No: I command thee stay.
alone: it never shall be said


That I took odds to combat mortal man.

[Exit Lord Randolph. [Glenalvon makes some steps to the same side of the stage, listens and speaks. Glen. Now, my good sword, for double slaughter here! The lover and the husband both must die.

[Lord Randolph behind the scenes Lord Rand. Draw, Villain! draw.

Doug. Assail me not, Lord Randolph ; Not as thou lov'st thyself.

[Clashing of swords. Glen. [Running out.] Now is the time. Enter Lady Randolph at the opposite side of the Stage faint and breathless.

Lady Rand. Lord Randolph, hear me; all shall be But spare! oh spare my son! [thine own:

Enter Douglas with a sword in each hand.
Doug. My mother's voice!
I can protect thee still.

Lady Rand. He lives, he lives:

For this, for this to Heaven eternal praise!
But sure I saw thee fall?

Doug. It was Glenalvon.

Just as my arm had master'd Randolph's sword,
The villain came behind me; but I slew him.

Lady Rand. Behind thee! Ah; thou'rt wounded! O my child,

How pale thou look'st! and shall I lose thee now?
Doug. Do not despair: I feel a little faintness;
I hope it will not last.
[Leans upon his sword.

Lady Rand. There is no hope!
And we must part! the hand of death is on thee!
O my beloved child! O Douglas, Douglas!

[Douglas growing more and more faint.

Doug. So soon to part: I have not long been Douglas. Clouded and hid, a stranger to myself, Lost to my mother, lost to all that's great, In low and poor obscurity I liv'd.

Lady Rand. Has Heav'n preserv'd thee for an end like Teach us, great Pow'r, to bend our wills to thine. [this? Doug. O had I fallen as my brave fathers fell, Turning with firm-strung arm the tide of battle! Like them I should have smil'd and welcom'd death. But thus to perish by a villain's hand!

Lady Rand. Forget the villain; and look up to Heav'n, In whose unerring hand the villain is An instrument.

[Douglas falls.

Doug. True. But, unknown I die.
No tongue discoursing shall of Douglas speak

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