Must needs step in, and save my life. The look
With which he gave the boon-I see it now!
The same that tempted me to loathe the gift.—
For this old venerable Grey-beard-faith
'Tis his own fault if he hath got a face

Which doth play tricks with them that look on it: "Twas this that put it in my thoughts that coun

tenance

His staff-his figure-Murder !-what, of whom?
We kill a worn-out horse, and who but women
Sigh at the deed? Hew down a withered tree,
And none look grave but dotards. He may live
To thank me for this service. Rainbow arches,
Highways of dreaming passion, have too long,
Young as he is, diverted wish and hope
From the unpretending ground we mortals tread ;-
Then shatter the delusion, break it up

And set him free. What follows? I have learned
That things will work to ends the slaves o' the world
Do never dream of. I have been what he-

This Boy when he comes forth with bloody

Are hushed to sleep, by your own act and deed,
Made quiet as he is.

Mar.
Why came you down?
And when I felt your hand upon my arm
And spake to you, why did you give no answer?
Feared you to waken him? he must have been
In a deep sleep. I whispered to him thrice.
There are the strangest echoes in that place!
Osw. Tut! let them gabble till the day of doom.
Mar. Scarcely, by groping, had I reached the
Spot,

When round my wrist I felt a cord drawn tight,
As if the blind Man's dog were pulling at it.
Osw. But after that?
Mar.

Lurked in his face

Osw.

The features of Idonea

Psha! Never to these eyes

Why forbid me

Will retribution show itself again
With aspect so inviting.
To share your triumph?

[Exit Beggar.

(To MARMADUKE.)

MARMADUKE re-enters from the dungeon. Osw. It is all over then ;-your foolish fears

Dear Marmaduke,

My words were rashly spoken; I recal them :

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

[Turning to MARMADUKE.

Give me your sword—nay, here are stones and fragments,

The least of which would beat out a man's brains;
Or you might drive your head against that wall.
No! this is not the place to hear the tale :
It should be told you pinioned in your bed,
Or on some vast and solitary plain

Blown to you from a trumpet.

Why talk thus ?

Mar. Whate'er the monster brooding in your breast I care not fear I have none, and cannot fear[The sound of a horn is heard. That horn again-'Tis some one of our Troop; What do they here? Listen! 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-

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

The feeble and the strong. She needs not here
Her bonds and chains, which make the mighty feeble.
-We recognise in this old Man a victim
Prepared already for the sacrifice.

Lacy. By heaven, his words are reason! Osw. Yes, my Friends, His countenance is meek and venerable; And, by the Mass, to see him at his prayers!— I am of flesh and blood, and may I perish When my heart does not ache to think of it !— Poor Victim! not a virtue under heaven But what was made an engine to ensnare thee; But yet I trust, Idonea, thou art safe. Lacy. Idonea!

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.

"Tis nobly thought;

His death will be a monument for ages.

Mar. (to LACY). I thank you for that hint. He 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.

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

How you would be disturbed by this dire news,
And therefore chose this solitary Moor,
Here to impart the tale, of which, last night,

I strove to ease my mind, when our two Comrades,
Commissioned by the Band, burst in upon us.

Mar. Last night, when moved to lift the avenging steel,

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,

And send it with a fillip to its grave.

Osw. Nay, you leave me behind.
Mar.

So pious in demeanour ! in his look
So saintly and so pure !-

-Hark'ee, my Friend,
I'll plant myself before Lord Clifford's Castle,
A surly mastiff kennels at the gate,
And he shall howl and I will laugh, a medley
Most tunable.

SCENE changes to another part of the Moor at a short distance-HERBERT is discovered seated on a stone.

Her. A sound of laughter, too!-'tis well-I feared,

The Stranger had some pitiable sorrow
Pressing upon his solitary heart.
Hush!-'tis the feeble and earth-loving wind
That creeps along the bells of the crisp heather.
Alas! 'tis cold-I shiver in the sunshine-
What can this mean? There is a psalm that speaks
Of God's parental mercies-with Idonea

I used to sing it.-Listen!-what foot is there?

Mar.

Not a soul: Here is a tree, raggèd, and bent, and bare, That turns its goat's-beard flakes of pea-green moss From the stern breathing of the rough sea-wind; This have we, but no other company: Commend me to the place. If a man should die And leave his body here, it were all one As he were twenty fathoms underground. Her. Where is our common Friend? Mar. A ghost, methinksThe Spirit of a murdered man, for instanceMight have fine room to ramble about here, A grand domain to squeak and gibber in.

Her. Lost Man! if thou have any close-pent guilt

Pressing upon thy heart, and this the hour
Of visitation-

There is a vein of her voice that runs through his : Even such a Man my fancy bodied forth

From the first moment that I loved the Maid; And for his sake I loved her more: these tears