Of popular applause. I now perceived That we are praised, only as men in us Do recognise some image of themselves, An abject counterpart of what they are,

Or the empty thing that they would wish to be.
I felt that merit has no surer test
Than obloquy; that, if we wish to serve
The world in substance, not deceive by show,
We must become obnoxious to its hate,
Or fear disguised in simulated scorn.

Mar. I pity, can forgive, you; but those wretches

That monstrous perfidy!

Osw.
Keep down your wrath.
False Shame discarded, spurious Fame despised,
Twin sisters both of Ignorance, I found

Life stretched before me smooth as some broad way
Cleared for a monarch's progress. Priests might spin
Their veil, but not for me-'twas in fit place
Among its kindred cobwebs. I had been,
And in that dream had left my native land,
One of Love's simple bondsmen--the soft chain
Was off for ever; and the men, from whom
This liberation came, you would destroy :
Join me in thanks for their blind services.

Mar. 'Tis a strange aching that, when we would

curse

And cannot. You have betrayed me--I have done

I am content I know that he is guiltless—
That both are guiltless, without spot or stain,
Mutually consecrated. Poor old Man !

And I had heart for this, because thou lovedst
Her who from very infancy had been
Light to thy path, warmth to thy blood!-Together
[Turning to OSWALD.
We propped his steps, he leaned upon us both.
Osw. Ay, we are coupled by a chain of adamant;
Let us be fellow-labourers, then, to enlarge
Man's intellectual empire. We subsist

In slavery; all is slavery; we receive

Laws, but we ask not whence those laws have come; We need an inward sting to goad us on.

Mar. Have you betrayed me? Speak to that. Osw. The mask, Which for a season I have stooped to wear, Must be cast off.-Know then that I was urged, (For other impulse let it pass) was driven, To seek for sympathy, because I saw In you a mirror of my youthful self;

I would have made us equal once again,

But that was a vain hope. You have struck home, With a few drops of blood cut short the business; Therein for ever you must yield to me.

Dragged from his bed, was cast into a dungeon,
Where, hid from me, he counted many years,
A criminal in no one's eyes but theirs—
Not even in theirs-whose brutal violence
So dealt with him.
Idon.
1 have a noble Friend
First among youths of knightly breeding, One
Who lives but to protect the weak or injured.
There again!
[Listening.

Elea. 'Tis my husband's foot. Good Eldred Has a kind heart; but his imprisonment

Has made him fearful, and he 'll never be
The man he was.
Idon.

I will retire ;-good night!
[She goes within.

Enter ELDRED, (hides a bundle).

Eld. Not yet in bed, Eleanor !-there are stains in that frock which must be washed out.

Elea. What has befallen you?

Eld. I am belated, and you must know the cause -(speaking low) that is the blood of an unhappy Man.

Elea. Oh! we are undone for ever.

Eld. Heaven forbid that I should lift my hand against any man. Eleanor, I have shed tears tonight, and it comforts me to think of it.

Elea. Where, where is he?

it will

Eld. I have done him no harm, but be forgiven me; it would not have been so once. Elea. You have not buried anything? You are

no richer than when you left me? Eld. Be at peace; I am innocent. Elea. Then God be thanked

[A short pause; she falls upon his neck. Eld. To-night I met with an old Man lying stretched upon the ground-a sad spectacle: I raised him up with a hope that we might shelter and restore him.

Elea. (as if ready to run). Where is he? You were not able to bring him all the way with you; let us return, I can help you.

[ELDRED shakes his head. Eld. He did not seem to wish for life: as I was struggling on, by the light of the moon I saw the stains of blood upon my clothes-he waved his hand, as if it were all useless; and I let him sink again to the ground.

Elea. Oh that I had been by your side!

Eld. I tell you his hands and his body were cold -how could I disturb his last moments? he strove to turn from me as if he wished to settle into sleep.

Elea. But, for the stains of blood -

Eld. He must have fallen, I fancy, for his head was cut; but I think his malady was cold and hunger.

Elea. Oh, Eldred, I shall never be able to look up at this roof in storm or fair but I shall tremble.

Eld. Is it not enough that my ill stars have kept me abroad to-night till this hour? I come home, and this is my comfort!

Elea. But did he say nothing which might have set you at ease?

Eld. I thought he grasped my hand while he was muttering something about his Child his Daughter (starting as if he heard a noise). What is that?

Elea. Eldred, you are a father.

Eld. God knows what was in my heart, and will not curse my son for my sake.

Elea. But you prayed by him? you waited the hour of his release?

Eld. The night was wasting fast; I have no friend; I am spited by the world-his wound terrified me if I had brought him along with me, and he had died in my arms!I am sure I heard something breathing-and this chair!

Elea. Oh, Eldred, you will die alone. You will have nobody to close your eyes-no hand to grasp your dying hand-I shall be in my grave. A curse will attend us all.

Eld. Have you forgot your own troubles when I was in the dungeon?

Elea. And you left him alive?

Eld. Alive!-the damps of death were upon him -he could not have survived an hour.

Elea. In the cold, cold night.

Eld. (in a savage tone). Ay, and his head was bare; I suppose you would have had me lend my bonnet to cover it.-You will never rest till I am brought to a felon's end.

Elea. Is there nothing to be done? cannot we go to the Convent?

Eld. Ay, and say at once that I murdered him!

Elea. Eldred, I know that ours is the only house upon the Waste; let us take heart; this Man may be rich; and could he be saved by our means, his gratitude may reward us.

Eld. 'Tis all in vain.

Elea. But let us make the attempt. This old Man may have a wife, and he may have children

let us return to the spot; we may restore him, and his eyes may yet open upon those that

love him.

Eld. He will never open them more; even when he spoke to me, he kept them firmly sealed as if he had been blind.

Idon. (rushing out). It is, it is, my FatherEld. We are betrayed (looking at IDONEA). Elea. His Daughter!-God have mercy! (turning to IDONEA).

Idon. (sinking down). Oh! lift me up and carry

me to the place.

You are safe; the whole world shall not harm you. Elea. This Lady is his Daughter.

Eld. (moved). I'll lead you to the spot. Idon. (springing up). Alive!-you heard him breathe quick, quick[Exeunt.

Osw. The game is up !— For.

[MARMADUKE disappears.

If it be needful, Sir,
I will assist you to lay hands upon him.
Osw. No, no, my Friend, you may pursue your
business

"Tis a poor wretch of an unsettled mind,
Who has a trick of straying from his keepers;
We must be gentle. Leave him to my care.

[Exit Forester.
If his own eyes play false with him, these freaks
Of fancy shall be quickly tamed by mine;
The goal is reached. My Master shall become
A shadow of myself-made by myself.

A human voice distinct, struck on my ear.

So guided, distant a few steps, I found An aged Man, and such as you describe.

Mar. You heard !--he called you to him? Of all

men

The best and kindest !--but where is he? guide me, That I may see him.

Eld.

On a ridge of rocks
A lonesome Chapel stands, deserted now :
The bell is left, which no one dares remove;
And, when the stormy wind blows o'er the peak,
It rings, as if a human hand were there

To pull the cord. I guess he must have heard it ;
And it had led him towards the precipice,
To climb up to the spot whence the sound came ;
But he had failed through weakness. From his
hand

His staff had dropped, and close upon the brink
Of a small pool of water he was laid,

As if he had stooped to drink, and so remained
Without the strength to rise.

A thousand miles.

Eld.
I am in poverty,
And know how busy are the tongues of men ;
My heart was willing, Sir, but I am one
Whose good deeds will not stand by their own light;
And, though it smote me more than words can tell,
I left him.

Mar. I believe that there are phantoms,
That in the shape of man do cross our path
On evil instigation, to make sport

Of our distress and thou art one of them!
But things substantial have so pressed on me-
Eld. My wife and children came into my mind.

E

I prithee, to the harm thou'st done already.
Eld. Hereafter you will thank me for this service.
Hard by, a Man I met, who, from plain proofs
of interfering Heaven, I have no doubt,
Laid hands upon your Father. Fit it were
You should prepare to meet him.
Idon.

I have nothing

Eld.

To the spot

I hurried back with her.-O save me, Sir,
From such a journey!there was a black trec,
A single tree; she thought it was her Father.—
Oh Sir, I would not see that hour again

For twenty lives. The daylight dawned, and now-
Nay; hear my tale, 'tis fit that you should hear it—
As we approached, a solitary crow

Rose from the spot ;-the Daughter clapped her hands,

And then I heard a shriek so terrible

[MARMADUKE shrinks back. The startled bird quivered upon the wing.

Mar. Dead, dead!—

[She turns and sees MARMADUKE leaning on ELEANOR
-throws herself upon his neck, and after some
time,

And thus we meet again; one human stay
In joy I met thee, but a few hours past;
Is left me still in thee. Nay, shake not so.
Mar. In such a wilderness-to see no thing,
No, not the pitying moon !
Idon.

And perish so.
Mar. Without a dog to moan for him.
Idon.
Think not of it,
But enter there and see him how he sleeps,
Tranquil as he had died in his own bed.
Mar. Tranquil-why not?
Idon.
Mar.

Oh, peace!

He is at peace;

[ELDRED goes off Master!

Elea. (enters).
Your limbs sink under you, shall I support you?
Mar. (taking her arm). Woman, I've lent my
body to the service

Which now thou tak'st upon thee. God forbid
That thou shouldst ever meet a like occasion
With such a purpose in thine heart as mine was.
Elea. Oh, why have I to do with things like these?

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the door of ELDRED'S cottage-IDONEA seated-enter ELDRED.

Eld. Your Father, Lady, from a wilful hand Has met unkindness; so indeed he told me, And you remember such was my report: From what has just befallen me I have cause To fear the very worst. Idon. My Father is dead; Why dost thou come to me with words like these? Eld. A wicked Man should answer for his crimes.

A hideous plot, against the soul of man :

It took effect and yet I baffled it,
In some degree.

Idon.

Between us stood, I thought, A cup of consolation, filled from Heaven For both our needs; must I, and in thy presence, Alone partake of it -Beloved Marmaduke!

Mar. Give me a reason why the wisest thing That the earth owns shall never choose to die, But some one must be near to count his groans. The wounded deer retires to solitude, And dies in solitude: all things but man,

All die in solitude.

And such a Man-so meek and unoffending—
Helpless and harmless as a babe: a Man,
By obvious signal to the world's protection,
Solemnly dedicated-to decoy him !—
Idon. Oh, had you seen him living !—
Mar.
I (so filled
With horror is this world) am unto thee
The thing most precious, that it now contains:
Therefore through me alone must be revealed
By whom thy Parent was destroyed, Idonea !
I have the proofs !-

O miserable Father!

Idon.
Thou didst command me to bless all mankind;
Nor to this moment, have I ever wished
Evil to any living thing; but hear me,
Hear me, ye Heavens !—(kneeling)—may venge-
ance haunt the fiend

For this most cruel murder: let him live
And move in terror of the elements;
The thunder send him on his knees to prayer
In the open streets, and let him think he sees,
If e'er he entereth the house of God,

The roof, self-moved, unsettling o'er his head;
And let him, when he would lie down at night,
Point to his wife the blood-drops on his pillow !
Mar. My voice was silent, but my heart hath
joined thee.

How could he call upon his Child !—O Friend ! [Turns to MARMADUKE.

My faithful true and only Comforter. Mar. Ay, come to me and weep. (He kisses her.) (TO ELDRED). Yes, Varlet, look,

The devils at such sights do clap their hands.

[ELDRED retires alarmed.

We were his guides. I on that night resolved
That he should wait thy coming till the day
Of resurrection.

Idon.

Miserable Woman, Too quickly moved, too easily giving way,

Hast thou pursued the monster?

I have found him.--

Mar.
Oh! would that thou hadst perished in the flames!
Idon. Here art thou, then can I be desolate ?--
Mar. There was a time, when this protecting hand

Availed against the mighty; never more
Shall blessings wait upon a deed of mine.

Idon. Wild words for me to hear, for me, an orphan,

Committed to thy guardianship by Heaven;
And, if thou hast forgiven me, let me hope,
In this deep sorrow, trust, that I am thine
For closer care ;-here, is no malady.

[Taking his arm.

Mar. There, is a malady(Striking his heart and forehead) And here, and here,

With the disastrous issue of last night, Thy perturbation, and these frantic words. Be calm, I pray thee!