Her son should give. It is, it must be so-- Lady R. Thy virtue ends her woes-My son! my son! I am thy mother, and the wife of Douglas! [Falls upon his neck. Nor. Oh, heaven and earth? how wond'rous is my fate! Art thou my mother? Ever let me kneel! Lady R. Image of Douglas! fruit of fatal love! Nor. Respect and admiration still possess me. 200 Lady R. Arise, my son. In me thou dost behold The poor remains of beauty once admir'd. The autumn of my days is come already : For sorrow made my summer haste away, Yet in my prime I equall'd not thy father: His eyes were like the eagle's, yet sometimes Liker the dove's; and, as he pleas'd, he won All' hearts with softness, or with spirit aw'd. Nor. How did he fall? Sure 'twas a bloody field When Douglas died. Oh, I have much to ask! Lady R. Hereafter thou shalt hear the lengthened tale Of all thy father's and thy mother's woes. At present this-Thou art the rightful heir 220 Nor. The blood of Douglas will protect itself. boy, To wrest thy lands and lordship from the gripe My tale will move each gentle heart to pity, Nor. To be the son of Douglas is to me And in the field I'll seek for fame and fortune. Lady R. Thou dost not know what perils and injustice Await the poor man's valour. Oh, my son! Too long hast thou been thus attended, Douglas, should part before yon chiefs return. 240 Retire, and from thy rustic follower's hand Of private conference. Its purport mark; Leave me, my son; and frame thy manners still To Norval's, not to noble Douglas' state. Nor. I will remember. That good old man. Where is Norval now? 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 griev'd my heart. von Beware of me. Lady R. There burst the smother'd flame. And bear my willing spirit to its place. [Exit. 260 When I, by reason and by justice urg'd, Full hardly can dissemble with these men Enter Lord RANDOLPH and GLENALVON. Lord R. Yon gallant chief, Of arms enamour'd, all repose disclaims. Lady R. Be not, my lord, by his example sway'd. Arrange the business of to-morrow now, And when you enter, speak of war no more. [Exit. Lord R. 'Tis so, by heav'n! her mein, her voice, her eye, And her impatience to be gone, confirm it. 280 Glen. He parted from her now. Behind the mount, Amongst the trees, I saw him glide along. Lord R. For sad sequester'd virtue she's renown'd. Glen. Most true, my Lord. 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 assassin freed, Might breed suspicion in a husband's brain, 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, She may, she will, bring shame and sorrow on him; Till your own senses make a sure conclusion. At the next turn awaits my trusty spy; In the close thicket take your secret stand; Lord R. Thou dost counsel well. Glen. Permit me now to make one slight essay. Lord R. And what avails this maxim? Withdraw a little! I'll accost young Norval, And with ironical derisive counsel . Explore his spirit. If he is no more 320 |