And mention nothing of his nobler father.

Prif. Fear not that I fhall mar fo fair an harvest, By putting in my fickle ere 'tis ripe.

220

Why did I leave my home and ancient dame ?
To find the youth, to tell him all I knew,
And make him wear thefe jewels in his arms,
Which might, I thought, be challeng'd, and fo bring
To light the fecret of his noble birth,

[Lady RANDOLPH goes towards the Servants. Lady R. This man is not th' affaffin you fufpected, Though chance combin'd fome likelihoods against him.

He is the faithful bearer of the jewels

To their right owner, whom in hafte he feeks.
'Tis meet that you fhould put him on his way,
Since your mistaken zeal hath dragg'd him hither.
[Exeunt Stranger and Servants..
My faithful Anna! doft thou share my joy?
I know thou doft. Unparallel'd event!
Reaching from heav'n to earth, Jehovah's arm
Snatch'd from the waves, and brings to me my
Judge of the widow, and the orphan's father,
Accept a widow's and a mother's thanks
For fuch a gift! What does my Anna think
Of the young eaglet of a valiant neft ?

How foon he gaz'd on bright and burning arms,

fon!

Spurn'd the low dunghill where his fate had thrown

him,

And tower'd up to the region of his fire!

240

Anna. How fondly did your eyes devour the boy!

Mysterious nature, with the unfeen cord

Of pow'rful inftinct, drew you to your own.

1

Lady R. The ready ftory of his birth believ'd
Suppreft my fancy quite; nor did he owe
To any likenefs my fo fudden favour:
But now I long to fee his face again,
Examine every feature, and find out
The lineaments of Douglas, or my own.
But most of all I long to let him know
Who his true parents are, to clafp his neck,
And tell him all the ftory of his father.

Anna. With wary caution you must bear yourself
In public, left your tenderness break forth,
And in obfervers ftir conjectures ftrange.
"For, if a cherub in the fhape of woman
"Should walk this world, yet defamation would,
"Like a vile cur, bark at the angel's train."-
To-day the baron ftarted at your tears.

260

Lady R. He did fo, Anna! well thy mistress knows
If the leaft circumftance, mote of offence,
Should touch the baron's eye, his fight would be
With jealoufy diforder'd. But the more

It does behove me inftant to declare

The birth of Douglas, and affert his rights.
This night I purpofe with my fon to meet,
Reveal the fecret, and confult with him:
For wife he is, or my fond judgment errs
As he does now, fo look'd his noble father,
Array'd in Nature's eafe: his mien, his speech,
Were fweetly fimple, and full oft deceiv'd
Thofe trivial mortals who feem always wife.
But, when the matter match'd his mighty mind,
Up rofe the hero; on his piercing eye
Sat obfervation; on each glance of thought

Decifion follow'd, as the thunderbolt

Purfues the flash.

Anna. That demon haunts you ftill :'. Behold Glenalvon!

Lady R. Now I fhun him not.

This day I brav'd him in behalf of Norval:
Perhaps too far: at leaft my nicer fears
For Douglas thus interpret.

Enter GLENALVON.

Glen. Noble dame !

The hovering Dane at last his men hath landed: ·
No band of pirates; but a mighty host,

That come to fettle where their valour conquers :

To win a country, or to lofe themselves.

280

Lady R. But whence comes this intelligence, Gle-.. nalvon ?

Glen. A nimble courier fent from yonder camp,

To haften up the chieftains of the north,

Inform'd me as he pafs'd, that the fierce Dane
Had on the eastern coaft of Lothian landed,
"Near to that place where the fea rock immense,
"Amazing bafs, looks o'er a fertile land.

"Lady R. Then muft this weftern army march to join

"The warlike troops that guard Edena's tow'rs. "Glen. Beyond all queftion. If impairing time

"Has not effac'd the image of a place,

"Once perfect in my breaft, there is a wild

"And feems by nature formed for the camp

"Which lies to weftward of that mighty rock,.

300.

"Of water-wafted armies, whofe chief ftrength

"Lies in firm foot, unflank'd with warlike horse :
"If martial fkill directs the Danish lords,
"There inacceffible their army lies

"To our swift-fcow'ring horfe, the bloody field
"Muft man to man, and foot to foot be fought.”
Lady R. How many mothers fhall bewail their fons!
How many widows weep their husbands flain!
Ye dames of Denmark, ev'n for you
I feel.
Who, fadly fitting on the fea-beat fhore,
Long look for lords that never fhall return.

Glen. Oft has th' unconquer'd Caledonian fword
Widow'd the north. The children of the flain
Come, as I hope, to meet their father's fate.
The monfter war, with her infernal brood,
Loud-yelling fury and life-ending pain,
Are objects fuited to Glenalvon's foul.
Scorn is more grievous than the pains of death;
Reproach more piercing than the pointed fword.
Lady R. I fcorn thee not but when I ought to fcorn;
Nor e'er reproach, but when infulted virtue
Against audacious vice afferts herself.

I own thy worth, Glenalvon; none more apt
Than I to praife thine eminence in arms,
And be the echo of thy martial fame.
No longer vainly feed a guilty paffion :
Go and purfue a lawful mistress, Glory.
Upon the Danish crefts redeem thy fault,
And let thy valour be the shield of Randolph.

320

Glen. One inftant ftay, and hear an alter'd man.

When beauty pleads for virtue, vice abash'd
Flies its own colours, and goes o'er to virtue.

I am your convert; time will fhew how truly:
Yet one immediate proof I mean to give.
That youth for whom your ardent zeal to-day,
Somewhat too haughtily defy'd your flave,
Amidst the fhock of armies I'll defend,

And turn death from him, with a guardian arm,
"Sedate by ufe, my bofom maddens not
"At the tumultuous uproar of the field.”

340

Lady R. Act thus, Glenalvon, and I am thy friend: But that's thy leaft reward. Believe me, fir, The truly generous is the truly wife;

And he who loves not others lives unbleft.

[Exit Lady RANDOLPH.

Glen. [folus.] Amen! and virtue is its own reward. I think that I have hit the very tone,

In which she loves to fpeak. Honey'd affent,
How pleasant art thou to the taste of man,
And woman alfo ! flattery direct
Rarely difgufts. They little know mankind
Who doubt its operation: 'tis my key,
And opes the wicket of the human heart.
How far I have fucceeded now, I know not.
Yet I incline to think her stormy virtue
Is lull'd awhile; 'tis her alone I fear ;

360

Whilft fhe and Randolph live, and live in faith And amity, uncertain is my tenure. "Fate o'er my head fufpends difgrace and death, "By that weak air, a peevish female's will. "I am not idle; but the ebbs and flows "Of fortune's tide cannot be calculated." That flave of Norval's I have found most apt: I fhew'd him gold, and he has pawn'd his foul