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Quit then this hostile camp: once more I tell thee, Thou art not here one single hour in safety.

Cor. O, that I had thee in the field, With six Aufidiuses, or more, thy tribe, To use my lawful sword.

Coriolanus.

5.-Lady Randolph and Douglas.-Home.

L. Ran. My son! I heard a voice—

Doug. The voice was mine.

L. Ran. Didst thou complain aloud to Nature's ear, That thus in dusky shades, at midnight hours, By stealth the mother and the son should meet? Doug. No: on this happy day, this better birth-day, My thoughts and words are all of hope and joy. L. Ran. 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.
L. Ran. 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 mentioned me,
With dreadful threat'nings; you they sometimes nam'd.
'Twas strange, they said, a wonderful discovery;
And ever and anon they vow'd revenge.

L. Ran. 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 he will be reveng'd. Perhaps ev'n 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.
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.

L. Ran. O Nature, Nature! what can check thy force?
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 hand achiev'd.
Our foes are two; no more: let me go forth,
And see if any shield can guard Glenalvon.

L. Ran. If thou regard'st thy mother, or rever❜st
Thy father's memory, 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 resolved.
But yet consider, as no vulgar name

That which I boast, it sounds 'mongst martial men;
How will inglorious caution suit my claim?
The post of fate, unshrinking, I 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, must not live.

L. Ran. I will not utter what my bosom feels.
Too well I love that valour which I warn.
Farewell, my son! my counsels are but vain;
And as high Heav'n hath will'd it, all must be.
Tragedy of Douglas.

6.- Alberto's Exculpation.-Home.

King. ART thou the chief of that unruly band,
Who broke the treaty and assail'd the Moors?
Youth. No chief, no leader of a band am I.
The leader of a band insulted me,

And those he led basely assail'd my life;
With bad success indeed. If self defence
Be criminal, O king! I have offended.

King. With what a noble confidence he speaks!
See what a spirit thro' his blushes breaks!
Observe him, Hamet.

Hamet. I am fix'd upon him.

King. Didst thou alone engage a band of Moors, And make such havoc? Sure it cannot be. Recal thy scatter'd thoughts. Nothing advance Which proof may overthrow.

Youth. -What I have said

No proof can overthrow. Where is the man,
Who speaking from himself, not from reports
And rumours idle, will stand forth and say,
was not single when the Moors attack'd me?
Hamet. I will not be that man, tho' I confess,
That I came hither to accuse thee, youth,
And to demand thy punishment.-I brought

The tale our soldiers told.

Youth. The tale was false.

Hamet. I thought it true; but thou hast shook my faith. The seal of truth is on thy gallant form,

For none but cowards lie.

King. Thy story tell,

With every circumstance which may explain
The seeming wonder; how a single man
In such a strife could stand?

Youth. "Twill cease to be

A wonder, when thou hear'st the story told.
This morning, on my road to Oviedo,
A while I halted near a Moorish post.
Of the commander I inquired my way,
And told my purpose, that I came to see
The famous combat. With a scornful smile,
With taunting words and gestures he replied,
Mocking my youth; advis'd me to return
Back to my father's house, and in the ring
To dance with boys and girls. He added too
That I should see no combat: That no knight
Of Spain durst meet the champion of the Moors.
Incens'd, I did indeed retort his scorn.
The quarrel grew apace, and I defied him
To a green hill, which rose amidst the plain,
An arrow's flight or farther from his post.
Alone we sped: alone we drew, we fought.
The Moorish captain fell. Enrag'd, his men
Flew to revenge his death. Secure they came
Each with his utmost speed. Those who came first,
Single, I met and slew. More wary grown
The rest together join'd, and all at once
Assail'd me. Then I had no hopes of life.
But suddenly a troop of Spaniards came
And charg'd my foes, who did not long sustain
The shock, but fled, and carried to their camp
That false report which thou, O king! hast heard.
King. Now by my sceptre and my sword I swear
Thou art a noble youth. An angel's voice
Could not command a more implicit faith

Than thou from me hast gain'd. What think'st thou,
Is he not greatly wrong'd?
[Hamet,

Hamet.By Allah! yes.

The voice of truth and innocence is bold,
And never yet could guilt that tone assume.
I take my leave, impatient to return,

And satisfy my friends that this brave youth
Was not the aggressor.

King. I expect no less from gen'rous Hamet.
[Exit HAMET.

-Tell me, wondrous youth!
For much I long to know; what is thy name?
Who are thy parents? Since the Moor prevail'd,
The cottage and the cave have oft conceal'd
From hostile hate the noblest blood of Spain;
Thy spirit speaks for thee. Thou art a shoot
Of some illustrious stock, some noble house,
Whose fortunes with their falling country fell.
Youth. Alberto is my name. I draw my birth
From Catalonia; in the mountains there
My father dwells, and for his own domains
Pays tribute to the Moor. He was a soldier:
Oft I have heard him of your battles speak,
Of Cavadonga's and Olalle's field.

But ever since I can remember ought,
His chief employment and delight have been
To train me to the use and love of arms;
In martial exercise we past the day;

Morning and evening, still the theme was war.
He bred me to endure the summer's heat,
And brave the winter's cold; to swim across
The headlong torrent, when the shoals of ice
Drove down the stream; to rule the fiercest steed
That on our mountains run. No savage beast.
The forest yields that I have not encounter'd.
Meanwhile my bosom beat for nobler game;
I long'd in arms to meet the foes of Spain.
Oft I implor'd my father to permit me,
Before the truce was made, to join the host.
He said it must not be, I was too young
For the rude service of these trying times.
King. Thou art a prodigy, and fill'st my mind
With thoughts profound and expectation high.

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