They turn'd upon him, but his active arm Struck to the ground, from whence they rose no more, And left him master of the bloody field. Το you and yours, deliberated not, Nor paus'd at peril, but, humanely brave, Fought on your side against such fearful odds. Have you not learn'd of him, whom we should thank? Whom call the saviour of lord Randolph's life? Lord R. I ask'd that question, and he answered not: But I must know, who my deliverer is. [To the Stranger. Stran. A low-born man, of parentage obscure, Who nought can boast but his desire to be A soldier, and to gain a name in arms. Lord R. Whoe'er thou art, thy spirit is ennobl'd By the great King of kings! thou art ordain'd And stamp'd a hero, by the sovereign hand Of Nature! blush not, flower of modesty As well as valour, to declare thy birth. Stran. My name is Norval: on the Grampion hills My father feeds his flocks; a frugal swain, Whose constant cares were to increase his store, And keep his only son, myself, at home. For I had heard of battles, and I long'd To follow to the field some warlike lord: And Heav'n soon granted what my sire deny'd. With bended bow, and quiver full of arrows, The road he took; then hasted to my friends, 'Till we o'ertook the spoil-encumber'd foe. 60 We fought and conquer'd. Ere a sword was drawn, My brave deliverer! thou shalt enter now 80 Him and his fortunes, who hath wrought thy safety; 102 Nor. I know not how to thank you. Rude I am, In speech and manners: never till this hour There's something in my breast, which makes me bold To say, that Norval ne'er will shame thy favour. Lady R. I will be sworn thou wilt not. Thou shalt be My knight; and ever, as thou didst to day, With happy valour guard the life of Randolph. Lord R. Well hast thou spoke. Let me forbid reply. [To NOKVAL. We are thy debtors still! Thy high desert O'ertops our gratitude. I must proceed, As was at first intended, to the camp. Some of my train, I see, are speeding hither, Impatient, doubtless, of their lord's delay. Go with me, Norval, and thine eyes shall see The chosen warriors of thy native land, Who languish for the fight, and beat the air With brandish'd swords. Nor. Let us be gone, my lord. 120 Lord R. [To Lady RANDOLPH.] About the time that the declining sun Shall his broad orbit o'er yon hills suspend, When danger to a soldier's soul endears The human joy that never may return. [Exeunt RANDOLPH and NORVAL. Lady R. His parting words have struck a fatal truth. Oh, Douglas! Douglas! tender was the time When we two parted, ne'er to meet again! How many years of anguish and despair Has Heaven annex'd to those swift-passing hours Of love and fondness. "Then my bosom's flame "Oft, as blown back by the rude breath of fear "Return'd, and with redoubled ardour blaz'd." 140 Anna. May gracious Heav'n pour the sweet balm of peace Into the wounds that fester in your breast! For earthly consolation cannot cure them. Lady R. One only cure can Heav'n itself bestow ;A grave-that bed in which the weary rest. Wretch that I am! Alas! why am I so? At every happy parent I repine ! How blest the mother of yon gallant Norval! Anna. Alas! alas! why will you thus resume |