« السابقةمتابعة »
Retire, and from thy rustic follower's hand
Nor. I will remember. Where is Norval now? That' good old man.
Lady R. At hand conceal'd he lies, An useful witness. But beware, my son, of yon Glenalvon; in his guilty breast Resides a villain's shrewdness, ever prone To false conjecture. He hath grievid my heart. Nor. Has he, indeed ? Then let yon false Glenal.
von Beware of me.
[Exit. Lady R. There burst the smother'd flame. Oh, thou all-righteous and eternal King ! Who Father of the fatherless art callid, Protect my son! Thy inspiration, Lord ! Hath fill'd his bosom with that sacred fire, Which in the breasts of his forefathers burn'd? Set him on high, like them, that he may shine 280 The star and glory of his native land ! Then let the minister of death descend, And bear my willing spirit to its place. Yonder they come.
How do bad women find Unchanging aspects to conceal their guilt,
When I, by reason and by justice urg'd,
Enter Lord RANDOLPH and GLENALVOX.
Lady R. Be not, my lord, by his example sway'd.
Lord R. 'Tis so, by heav'n! her mein, her voice,
And her impatience to be gone, confirm it.
Glen. He parted from her now. Behind the mount, Amongst the trees, I saw him glide along.
Lord R. For sad sequester’dvirtue she's renown'd. Glen. Most true, my Lord.
300 Lord R. Yet this distinguish'd dame Invites a youth, th' acquaintance of a day, Alone to meet her at the midnight hour. This assignation [Shews a letter. ] the assasin freed, Her manifest affection for the youth, Might breed suspicion in a husband's brain, Whose gentle consort all for love had wedded : Much more in mine. Matilda never lov'd me. Let no man, after me, a woman wed Whose heart he knows he has not; though she brings A mine of gold, a kingdom for her dowry. For let her seem, like the night's shadowy queen, Cold and contemplative-he cannot trust her :
She may, she will, bring shame and sorrow on him; The worst of sorrows, and the worst of shames !
Glen. Yield not, my lord, to such afflicting thoughts; But let the spirit of an husband sleep, Till your own senses make a sure conclusion, This billet must to blooming Norval go : At the next turn awaits my trusty spy ;
320 I'll give it him refitted for his master. In the close thicket take your secret stand ; The moon shines bright, and your own eyes may judge Of their behaviour.
Lord R. Thou dost counsel well.
Glen. Permit me now to make one slight essay.
Lord R. And what avails this maxim ?
Glen. Much, my lord. Withdraw a little ! I'll accost young Norval, And with ironical derisive counsel Explore his spirit. If he is no more Than humble Norval by thy favour rais'd, Brave as he is, he'll shrink astonish'd from me: 340 But if he be the favourite of the fair, Lov'd by the first of Caledonia's dames, He'll turn upon me, as the lion turns
Upon the hunter's spear.
Lord R. 'Tis shrewdly thought.
His rising wrath restrain. [Exit Randolph.
Even I did think her chaste,
Nor. The setting sun
Glen. Thou talk'st it well; no leader of our host In sounds more lofty speaks of glorious war.
Nor. If I shall e'er acquire a leader's name,
Of praise pertaining to the great in arms.
But mark me,
Nor. Sir, I have been accustomed all my days
Glen. I did not mean
Nor. My pride!
Glen. Suppress it, as you wish to prosper.
Nor. A shepherd's scorn!