My jewels, I'm come to speak in the behalfHoot, devil burn you all, you makes me laugh; Upon my soul now, I don't take it well in you ;Arra, be easy till I'm after telling you. Smit with the love of glory and of pelf, But there's a villain, with a damn'd cramp'd name, Then there's a child, the sweetest little rogue !- 'Tis time for me to be agoing in ; I take my leave, then-but, dear craters, mind— And yours, my souls,t'encourage and protect. ACT I. Ray. But now I cast me at the fair one's feets SCENE I.—An Avenue leading to a Gothic Pleaded my passion with whatever arts Castle. concerns Us near. Our vigilance be doubly firm. [Exit Knt. [Reads.] The countess of Salisbury, to her illus trious friend, the lord de Warren. I have lost my husband-Me and my lands lord Raymond claims, as by royal grant assigned to him. He has banished my train, encompassed me with his creatures, and holds me a prisoner in my own castle. If the memory of thy noble friend be dear to thee, haste and rescue the afflicted ELA. How near was Raymond's hope, the beauteous hope He tended with unceasing care; how near My hopes demand it, and the time admits Might best the gentle purpose aid; but she, Grey. And did my lord, in this unseemly fa- Hear all with equal temper? Waked he not Ray. Thou know'st not what it is To love like me-Long time (for passion now Had shed o'er all her charms a brighter glow, That like Jove's daughter most she looked, s In all the soft, the lovely languishment Grey. O shame to manhood! suits Ray. She must, she must, Yes, Grey, she must be mine-and yet—yet fain Would I persuade the fair one, not compel. Grey. Say to what purpose, then, was seized her castle? When she your suit rejected, then, perforce, Ray. Ungracious is the love reluctance yields; And cold, cold even as marble, is the maid, Who comes unwilling to another's arms. Grey. In brief, would you partake the lady's | Night after night, when some fleet courier, sent bed? Ray. What means the question? Grey. Look on that, my lord: Of thee demand no trivial recompence. Ray. My better angel interposed. Were this but whispered in our Henry's ear- Ray. What's to be done? Grey. 'Tis critical, and must be managed But see, with Eleanor the countess comes; SCENE II. [Exeunt. Can think even yet, that, once repulsed, he e'er Would thus presume? Lady Sal. Is there no succour then? No generous hand to vindicate my wrongs? Oh Salisbury! Salisbury! Why, if yet thou liv'st Fond hope! he lives not, else with speed of thought Would he repair to bis afflicted Ela. Ele. Why dearest lady, will you yield you up A prey to purposed sorrow? Time is fruitful; And the next hour, perhaps, may bring thee comfort. Lady Sal. Day after day I have watched the joyless hours: Before perchance, or letter, fraught with sweet Assurance of his safety, might appear; Five tedious moons have passed since first were told The dismal tidings; no fleet courier, sent Before, alas! nor letter, with such sweet Assurance, yet appears-he's gone! he's lost! And I shall never, never see him more. Ele. Ah! suffer not the leaden hand of cold Despair thus weigh thee down; I yet have hope. Lady Sal. Away with hope, away! No, no; full loud, As I remember, and outrageous blew Ele. Heaven visit her affliction, and bestow Lady Sal. No, Eleanor; no more shall he To these deserted walls return. No more Shall trophies, won by many a gallant deed, Through the long hall in proud procession move; No more fair Salisbury's battlements and towers Re-echo to the approaching trumpet's voice. Never, Oh! never more shall Ela run, With throbbing bosom, at the well-known sound, To unlock his helmet, conquest-plumed, to strip The cuishes from his manly thigh, or snatch Quick from his breast the plated armour, wont To oppose my fond embrace-Sweet times, farewell! Lord Wil. Mother, why do you speak so? you make me sad. Lady Sul. It is too soon, my child, for thee to know What sadness is. Lord Wil. Will not my father come home soon? Eleanor told me he would: she would not tell a lie. Lady Sal. No, love. Lord Wil. Then he will come. Lady Sal. Sweet innocence! I fear he will not. Lord Wil. I hope he is not sick. Lady Sal. Go, lovely prattler, seek thy toys: go, go. Lord Wil. I will, good mother; but don't be sad, or I shall be so too. [Exit. Lady Sal. Sweet state of childhood! unallay ed with cares; Serene as spring-tide morn, new welcomed up With bleat of lamb, with note of woodlark wild. With riper years come passions turbulent And rude, a baleful crew, unnumbered as The forest leaves, that strew the earth in autumn. When happiness is round thee, when thou art on The lap of downy ease, when thou art cherished In the fair bosom of unruffled joy, Comes a fell hand, dashes thee rudely down, And leaves thee to despair. Ele. Cease, sweet Returns, is sure the worst of ills. Lady Sal. And what of that? Grey. Though love denied, yet pity may do much To sooth the wound that pity gives. In brief, Thou much-revered! my suit is in behalf of Raymond. Lady Sal. Then I will spare us both some cost Of words: In brief, I love him not, nor pity; So tell thy lord--I would be private-hence. Grey. Your words are brief indeed; but of that kind I dare not, must not bear my lord. Lady Sal. Must not! me; Were he of all the wealth possessed from where The East Indian bids the sun good-morrow, to where The Atlantic, in her wide-extended lap, And swallow me within her lowest prison! Grey. For pity's sake yet soften; for, Oh! sure No former love could ever equal his; My people? where the freedom that I late Lady Sal. Is this the love he boasts? Is this the fair accomplished, this the gentle youth! Must I recall to mind-Came he not then, Even while the memory of my dear loved lord Was green, while sorrow yet was in my eyes? Tears! ye will choke me-Came he not even then, And broke in on my sorrows? Like a spoiler He came, heaped up the measure of my woes, Added new anguishi to the afflicted heart, And swelled the current of the widow's tears! Grey. Madam, were he that spoiler thou proclaim'st, He need not now thus humbly sue for that, His power, long since, unasked, might have extorted. Lady Sal. Ha! what art thou, that thus presum'st to threaten? Extorted!—Hence, thou rude one, bolder even Than him who calls thee slave. Grey. Madam, you speak As though you knew me not. Lady Sal. I know thee wellTo what concerns lord Raymond I have spoke, My final purpose fixed: For thee, I charge thee shun my presence; hence! And learn the distance that befits thy calling. Grey. Not ere I speak more fully to the cause Nay, lady, look not on me with so stern Lady Sal. No more; I'll hear no more. [Exit. Lady Sal, What meant he, Eleanor?—I will be heard! Ele. Alas! I know not: but a soul he hath, Prompt and alert to acts of desperate thinking. Hardly thou art beset; O lady, lend An ear to what thy Eleanor would counsel. Thou, spotless as the snowy-vested hill! It must be so Oh, Salisbury! Salisbury! thou lamented shade! Descend from those pure mansions, where thou sit'st Exalted! hover o'er me: and, as thou [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I. Within the Castle. Enter RAYMOND and GREY. Grey. AWAY, my lord, away with every care! The conflict's past, and fortune is our ownDefeated once, again I sought the fair; I sought her, and prevailed. Ray. Whence have you come? Alw. From France, not many days. Ray. Say, what occasion may have called you hither? Alw. To aid (Heaven prosper long) my country's weal. Ray. You are a soldier then? Alto. I have been such ; Ray. By all the joys, the nameless joys, that on And to be such was my most dear inclining: The precious hour of soft compliance wait, Unhoped, from her late bearing? Grey. Uncertain is the sex-but that imports not. It now remains, that proof, such proof be sought you Approve Enter a Knight. Knt. My lord, two strangers I have brought, Within the precincts of the castle found. Ray. Say'st thou two strangers? of what quality? Knt. With me they were of speech not overprompt; But, by their outward guise, they would seem men The weary traveller to dismiss my gates, Re-enter Knight, with Strangers. Whence, and what are you? 1st Stran. What we are, [Exit. These weeds, though we were silent, might un fold. Alwin I am called, my fellow-traveller Of food, we journeyed hitherward, in hope Smit with the love, even from my greenest youth, Ray. Cease not so. Though in the school of war untutored, much To claim of Lewis certain lands usurped, Ray. Were you therein employed? Lord Salisbury then, perchance, of thee was known? Alw. I knew him well; our liege's near ally, Ray. Of him fame loudly speaks, Alw. He was not wont, while others bravely fought, To look inactive on. Ler. A foe like him France never knew, of all that warrior host, Which, like an inundation, England poured On her affrighted shores Ray. But what Have proved his latter fortumes I should wish Alw. What cause there was Of such report, alas! these eyes have seen; Ray. I pray you, let us hear. Alw. O'ercharged with human prey, fell war had ceased To walk his wasteful round; well pleased we turn Us from the blood-stained field; exulting each |