But looking sad and earnest on the waters, : whirl'd round and round, A basket soon I drew it to the bank, Pris. He was. Lady R. Inhuman that thou art ! How could'st thou kill what waves and tempests spared? Pris. I am not so inhuman. Lady R. Didst thou not? Pris. The needy man, who has known better days, One whom distress has spited at the world, Is he, whom tempting fiends would pitch upon Who saw no end of black adversity: Yet, for the wealth of kingdoms, I would not Lady R. Ha! dost thou say so? then perhaps he Pris. Not many days ago he was alive. Lady R. Oh! heavenly powers! did he then die so lately? Pris. I did not say he died: I hope he lives. Not many days ago these eyes beheld Him, flourishing in youth, and health, and beauty. Lady R. Where is he now? Pris. Alas! I know not where. Lady R. Oh! fate! I fear thee still. Thou riddler, speak Direct and clear, else I will search thy soul. Pris. Fear not my faith, though I must speak my shame. Within the cradle where the infant lay, Was stowed a mighty store of gold and jewels; C From all the world, the wonderful event, That none might mark the change of our estate, Bought flocks and herds, and gradually brought forth But all in vain: for when a desperate band Lady R. Eternal Providence! what is thy name? Pris. My name is Norval; and my name he bears Lady R. 'Tis he! 'tis he himself! It is my son! Oh! sovereign mercy! 'twas my child I saw! Pris. If I, amidst astonishment and fear, Have of your words and gestures rightly judged, Thou art the daughter of my ancient master; The child I rescued from the flood is thine! Lady R. With thee dissimulation now were vain. I am indeed the daughter of Sir Malcolm; The child thou rescu'dst from the flood is mine. Pris. Blest be the hour that made me a poor man! My poverty hath saved my master's house! Lady R. Thy words surprise me: sure thou dost not feign! The tear stands in thine eye: such love from thee Pris. Sir Malcolm of our barons was the flower; By them I was thrust out, and them I blame : Lady R. His race shall yet reward thee. Pris. I remember The cottage of the cliffs. Lady R. 'Tis that I mean: There dwells a man of venerable age, Pris. Fear not that I shall mar so fair an harvest, By putting in my sickle ere 'tis ripe. Why did I leave my home and ancient dame? And make him wear these jewels in his arms, [LADY RANDOLPH goes towards the SERVANTS. Lady R. This man is not th' assassin you suspected, Though chance combined some likelihoods against him. He is the faithful bearer of the jewels To their right owner, whom in haste he seeks. For such a gift!-What does my Anna think How soon he gazed on bright and burning arms,. Spurn'd the low dunghill where his fate had thrown him, And tow'r'd up to the region of his sire! Anna. How fondly did your eyes devour the boy! Lady R. The ready story of his birth believed, Anna. With wary caution you must bear yourself In public, lest your tenderness break forth, And in observers stir conjectures strange. Lady R. He did so, Anna! well thy mistress knows If the least circumstance, mote of offence, Should touch the baron's eye, his sight would be With jealousy disorder'd. Anna. That demon haunts you still : Behold Glenalvon. Lady R. Now I shun him not. This day I braved him in behalf of Norval : For Douglas thus interpret. [Exit ANNA. Enter GLENALVON. Glen. Noble dame! The hov'ring Dane at last his men hath landed; That come to settle where their valour conquers; Lady R. How many mothers shall bewail their sons! Glen. Oft has th' unconquer'd Caledonian sword Scorn is more grievous than the pains of death; Lady R. I scorn thee not but when I ought to scorn; Nor e'er reproach, but when insulted virtue } I own thy worth, Glenalvon; none more apt |