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Of praise pertaining to the great in arms.
Glen. You wrong yourself, brave Sir; your martial

deeds Have rank'd you with the great. But mark me,

Norval; Lord Randolph's favour now exalts your youth Above his veterans of famous service. Let me, who know these soldiers, counsel you. Give them all honour: seem not to command ; Else they will scarcely brook your late sprung power, Which nor alliance props, nor birth adorns.

Nor. Sir, I have been accustomed all my days
To hear and speak the plain and simple truth:
And tho’ I have been told that there are men
Who borrow friendship’s tongue to speak their scorn,
Yet in such language I am little skill'd.
Therefore I thank Glenalvon for his counsel,
Although it sounded harshly. Why remind
Me of my birth obscure? Why slur my power
With such contemptuous terms ?

Glen. I did not niean
To gall your pride, which now I see is great.

Nor. My pride!

Glen.' Suppress it, as you wish to prosper.
Your pride's excessive. Yet, for Randolph's sake,
I will not leave you to its rash direction.
If thus you swell, and frown at high-born men, 380
Will high-born men endure a shepherd's scorn?

Nor. A shepherd's scorn!
Glen. Yes; if you presume

To bend on soldiers these disdainful eyes,
What will become of you?
Nor. If this were told !.

[Aside. Hast thou no fears for thy presumptuous self?

Glen. Ha! dost thou threaten me?
Nor. Didst thou not hear?

Glen. Unwillingly I did; a nobler foe
Had not been question’d thus. But such as thee-

Nor. Whom dost thou think me?
Glen. Norval.

Nor. So I am
And who is Norval in Glenalvon's eyes?

Glen. A peasant's son, a wandering beggar-boy; At best no more, even if he speaks the truth.

Nor. False as thou art, dost thou suspect my truth?

Glen. Thy truth ! thou’rt all a lie: and false as hell Is the vain-glorious tale thou told'st to Randolph.

Nor. If I were chain'd, unarm’d, and bed-rid old, Perhaps I should revile ; but as I am, I have no tongue to rail. The humble Norval Is of a race who strive not but with deeds. Did I not fear to freeze thy shallow valour, And make thee sink too soon beneath my sword, I'd tell thee-what thou art. I know thee well. Glen. Dost thou not know Glenalvon, born to com

mand
Ten thousand slaves like thee.

Nor. Villain, no more!
Draw and defend thy life. I did design
To have defy'd thee in another cause :

402

420

But Heav'n accelerates its vengeance on thee.
Now for my own and lady Randolph's wrongs.

Enter Lord RANDOLPH.
Lord R. Hold, I command you both. The man that

stirs Makes me his foe.

Nor. Another voice than thine That threat had vainiy sounded, noble Randolph. Glen. Hear him, my Lord; he's wond'rous conde

scending! Mark the humility of shepherd Norval ! Nor. Now you may scoff in safety.

[Sheaths his Sword. Lord R. Speak not thus, Taunting each other; but unfold to me The cause of quarrel, then I judge betwixt you.

Nor. Nay, my good Lord, tho' I revere you mucli, My cause I plead not, nor demand your judgment. I blush to speak; I will not, cannot speak Th’ opprobrious words that I from him have borne. To the liege-lord of my dear native land I owe a subject's homage: but ev’n him And his high arbitration I'd reject. Within my bosom reigns another lord; Honour, sofe judge, and umpire of itself. If my free speech offend you, noble Randolph, Revoke your favours, and let Norval go Hence as he came, alone, but not dishonour'd.

Lord R. Thus far I'll mediate with impartial voice: The ancient foc of Caledonia's land

Now waves his banners o'er her frighted fields.
Suspend your purpose till your country's arms 440
Repel the bold invader: then decide
The private quarrel.

Glen. I agree to this.
Nor. And I.

Enter Servant.

Ser. The banquet waits.
Lord R. We come.

(Exit with Servant.
Glen. Norval,
Let not our variance mar the social hour,
Nor wrong the hospitality of Randolph.
Nor frowning anger, nor yet wrinkled hate,
Shall stain my countenance. Sooth thou thy brow;
Nor let our strife disturb the gentle dame.

Nor. Think not so lightly, Sir, of my resentment. When we contend again, our strife is mortal. [Exeunt.

ACT V. SCENE I.

Enter DOUGLAS.

Douglas.
This is the place, the centre of the grove;
Here stands the oak, the monarch of the wood.
How sweet and solemn is this midnight scene!
The silver moon, unclouded, holds her way

Thro’skies where I could count each little star.
The fanning west wind scarcely stirs the leaves! 460
The river, rushing o'er its pebbled bed,
Imposes silence with a stilly sound.
In such a place as this, at such an hour,
If ancestry can be in ought believed,
Descending spirits have convers’d with man,
And told the secrets of the world unknown.

Enter Old NORVAL.
Old Nor. 'Tis he. But what if he should chide me

hence ? His just reproach I fear.

[Douglas turns aside and sees him. Forgive, forgive, Canst thou forgive the man, the selfish man, Who bred Sir Malcolm's heir, a shepherd's son?

Doug. Kneel not to me; thou art my father still: Thy wish’d-for presence now completes my joy. Welcome to me; my fortunes thou shalt share, And ever honour'd with thy Douglas live.

Old Nor. And dost thou call me father; Oh, my son! I think that I could die, to make amends For the great wrong I did thee. 'Twas my

crime Which in the wilderness so long conceal’d The blossom of thy youth.

480 Doug. Not worse the fruit, That in the wilderness the blossom blow'd. Amongst the shepherds, in the humble cot, I learn'd some lessons, which I'll not forget When I inhabit yonder lofty towers.

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