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

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 i
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,

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 ;- Lurked in his face-
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
hands-

Might envy, and am now,-but he shall know
What I am now- [Goes and listens at the dungeon.
Praying or parleying ?-tut!

Is he not eyeless? He has been half-dead

Beg.

[To her.
Forgive me, gracious Sir !—
Osw. (to her companions). Begone, ye Slaves, or
I will raise a whirlwind

And send ye dancing to the clouds, like leaves.
[They retire affrighted.

Beg. Indeed we meant no harm; we lodge
sometimes

In this deserted Castle-I repent me.

[OSWALD goes to the dungeon-listens-returns to
the Beggar.

Osw. Woman, thou hast a helpless Infant-keep
Thy secret for its sake, or verily

That wretched life of thine shall be the forfeit.

Beg. I do repent me, Sir; I fear the curse Of that blind Man. "Twas not your money, sir

Osw. Begone!

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.

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?
Mar.

Smiling in sleep—
Osw.

Yes, her very look,

A pretty feat of Fancy!

Mar. Though but a glimpse, it sent me to my

prayers.

Osw. Is he alive?

Mar.

What mean you? who alive!

Osw. Herbert! since you will have it, Baron

Herbert;

He who will gain his Seignory when Idonea
Hath become Clifford's harlot—is he living!
Mar. The old Man in that dungeon is alive.
Osw. Henceforth, then, will I never in camp or

Saw him his face turned toward me; and I tell
thee

Idonea's filial countenance was there
To baffle me- -it put me to my prayers.
Upwards I cast my eyes, and, through a crevice,
Beheld a star twinkling above my head,
And, by the living God, I could not do it.

[Sinks exhausted,

Osw. (to himself). Now may I perish if this turn

do more

wn to you from a trumpet. MSP. Water the monster brooding in your breast ! Imre not: fear I have none, and cannot fear[The sound of a horn is heard. Tast born again—'Tis some one of our Troop; at do they here! Listen!

What! dogged like thieves!

Enter WALLACE and LACY, &c.

Lacy. You are found at last, thanks to the

vagrant Troop

Fænot 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-

Lacy.

The whole visible world
Contains not such a Monster !

Mar.
For this purpose
Should he resolve to taint her Soul by means
Which bathe the limbs in sweat to think of them;
Should he, by tales which would draw tears from iron,

(mm. (looking at WALLACE). That subtle Grey- Work on her nature, and so turn compassion

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

Few, 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.
Aging to the Moralists who preach
That sery is a sacred thing: for me,
I now no cheaper engine to degrade a man,
Nur any half so sure. This Stripling's mind
Is shasen 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,

kanal matures a strange spectacle ;

In same a hideous one-hem! shall I stop!
Na-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.

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,
But listen, for I could fetch lessons out of wiser schools

Enter MARMADUKE, from behind. One. (turning to meet him).

Mar.

Bat hear the proofs

Why, I believe you.

Ay, prove that when two peas
Le snugly in a pod, the pod must then
Be larger than the peas-prove this-'twere matter
arthy the hearing. Fool was I to dream
Ever could be otherwise !

Last night
When I returned with water from the brook,
I overheard the Villains-every word
Lake red-hot iron burnt into my heart.

cor, It is agreed on. The blind Man
tal fem a sudden illness, and the Girl,
on her journey must proceed alone,
Inder pretence of violence, be seized.
She "cratinned the detested Slave,

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

Yields, could not chuck his babe beneath the chin, This morning, when I spoke of weariness,

You from my shoulder took my scrip and threw it
About your own; but for these two hours past

That such a One, Once only have you spoken, when the lark

What can this mean? There is a psalm that speaks They have snapped her from the stem-Poh! let