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I will not bear myself as I resolv'd.
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.
Lady R. I will not utter what my bosom feels. Too well I love that valour which I warn. 640 Farewel, my son! my counsels are but vain,
[Embracing. And as high Heav'n hath will'd it, all must be.
[Separate. Gaze not on me, thou wilt mistake the path; I'll point it out again. [Just as they are separating, Enter from the wood Lord RANDOLPH and GLENALVON.
Lord R. Not in her presence. Now
Glen. I'm prepar'd.
Lord R. No: I command thee stay. I go
alone : it never shall be said That I took odds to combat mortal man. The noblest vengeance is the most compleat. Exit. [GLENALVON makes some steps to the same side of
the stage, listens and speaks. Glen. Demons of death come settle on my sword,
And to a double slaughter guide it home!
Lord R. [Behind the scenes.) Draw, villain! draw!
Doug [Without.] Assail me not, lord Randolph; Not as thou lov'st thyself. . [Clashing of swords.
Glen. [Running out.] Now is the time.
Enter Lady RANDOLPH, at the opposite side of the stage,
faint and breathless. Lady R. Lord Randolph, hear me ; all shall be
thine own! But spare ! Oh, spare my son !
Enter DOUGLAS, with a sword in each hand.
Doug. My mother's voice!
Lady R. He lives, he lives ;
Doug. It was Glenalvon,
my child, How pale thou look'st! And shall I lose thee now?
Doug. Do not despair : I feel a little faintness; Į hope it will not last. [Leans upon his sword,
Lady R. There is no hope ! And we must part! The hand of death is on thee!
Oh! my beloved child! O Douglas, Douglas !
[DOUGLAS growing more and more faint. Doug. Too soon we part: I have not long been
Douglas; destiny! hardly thou deal'st with me; Clouded and hid, a stranger to myself, In low and poor obscurity I've liv’d. Lady R. Has Heav'n preserv'd thee for an end like this?
860 Doug. Oh! had I fall’n as my brave fathers fell, Turning with fatal arm the tide of battle! Like them I should have smil'd and welcom'd death : But thus to perish by a villain's hand! Cut off from nature's and from glory's course, Which never mortal was so fond to run. Lady R. Hear justice; hear! stretch thy avenging
[DOUGLAS falls. Doug. Unknown I die; no tongue shall speak of me. Some noble spirits, judging by themselves May yet conjecture what I might have prov'd, And think life only wanting to my
fame : But who shall comfort thee?
Lady R. Despair, despair 1
Doug. Oh, had it pleas'd high Heav'n to let me live A little while !
-my eyes that gaze on thee Grow dim apace! my mother-0! my mother! [Dies.
Enter Lord RANDOLPH and ANNA. Lord R. Thy words, thy words of truth, have pierc'd my heart;
I am the stain of knighthood and of arms.
700 Anna. Alas! look there, my lord.
Lord R. The mother and her son! How curst I am!
Anna. My lady lives :
Lord R. But my deliverer's dead; “ The world did once esteem lord Randolph well, “ Sincere of heart, for spotless honour fam’d: “ And, in my early days, glory I gain'd “ Beneath the holy banner of the cross. “ Now past the noon of life, shame comes upon me;
Reproach, and infamy, and public hate, " Are near at hand : for all mankind will think “ That Randolph basely stabb'd Sir Malcolm's heir." Lady R. [Recovering.) Where am I now? Still in
this wretched world! Grief cannot break a heart so hard as mine. “ My youth was worn in anguish: but youth's strength, “ With hope's assistance, bore the brunt of sorrow; " And train'd me on to be the object now, « On which Omnipotence displays itself, “ Making a spectacle, a tale of me, « To awe it's vassal, man."
Lord R. Oh, misery!
Amidst thy raging grief I must proclain
Lady R. Thy innocence !
730 Is innocence compar'd with what thou think'st it.
Lady R. Of thee I think not: what have I to do With thee, or any thing? My son! my son! My beautiful! my brave ! how proud was I Of thee and of thy valour! my fond heart O'erflow'd this day with transport, when I thought Of growing old amidst a race of thine, Who might make up to me their father's childhood, And bear my brother's and my husband's name: Now all my hopes are dead! A little while Was I a wife! a mother not so long! What am I now I-I know. But I shall be That only whilst I please ; for such a son And such a husband drive me to my fate. (Runs out.
Lord R. Follow her, Anna: I myself would follow, But in this rage she must abhor my presence.
Enter Old NORVAL.
Old Nor. I heard the voice of woe: Heaven guard
Lord R. Already is the idle gaping crowd, The spiteful vulgar, come to gaze on Randolph. Begone.
Old Nor. I fear thee not. I will not go. Here I'll remain. I'm an accomplice, lord,