University of Virginia Library

SCENE VI.

Enter FLEMING and Sir WILLIAM DOUGLAS.
Douglas.
Welcome, my Cousins, to my house and heart!
Report your success, all you see are friends.

Fleming.
Trust not too soon; for some have long been foes!

Chancellor.
Let not distrust pepetuate Scotia's plagues,
Now tott'ring on destruction's dreadful brink;
Suppress resentment, and fly swift to save.

Sir William Douglas
When Scotia's state was govern'd by her peers,
She rose from ruin to renown and power:
Shut from her councils, peaceful they retir'd,
And to their country sacrific'd revenge,
While o'er their heads their base inferiors rose.

Fleming.
Our nobles suffer'd much, my share was large.
My wife beheld her father's house destroyed;
Their high descent, their royal blood profan'd:
My life pursu'd, I bore the dungeon long.
Lord Douglas knows the suff'rings of his sire.

Chancellor.
Yet gen'rous he forgives! O my good Lords!
Remit the past; let penitence attone,
And future friendship live, for former wrongs.

Douglas.
'Tis godlike to forgive repenting foes.
To be implacable ill suits frail man,
Who daily errs, and daily pardon craves.

Fleming,
giving Letters.
My honest bus'ness, friend or foe may know;
These from the king of France, salute you Count
Of Longueville, and Touraine's potent duke,
With all the powers and rev'nues of your sires.

All.
God bless Touraine's great Duke.

Earl Douglas
to Sir David.
Dear Longueville!
Hence in both kingdoms we united shine;
In Scotland, Douglas and his Galloway;
In France, Touraine and his dear Longueville:
And Wigton's generous care shall find reward.

Chancellor
aside.
Hell blast their thriving greatness!—Hell I call
T'assist my hate! Their virtue bribes the skies!

Sir William Douglas.
Behold this bond by Ross and Crawford seal'd.
They hold your en'mies theirs: to-night expect them,
With noble peers who dwell beyond the Forth.

Chancellor
aside.
Enough t'alarm the Regent's rage and pride.
My royal charge requires me, but my son
[Aloud.
Desires to stay. Adieu, most honour'd Lords.

Exeunt cæteri.
Manet Sir William Douglas.
My uncle bred me as his son to greatness;
His sons have ever as a brother lov'd me:
How gen'rous are their hearts! How great their souls!
This wond'rous maid! The glories of her mind
Outshines even all her heav'nly beauty's brightness!
She moves an angel! Heav'n beams from her eyes!
And lo she comes, majestic in her charms!

Enter Lady Beatrix.
Your safe return and success give us joy.

Sir William Douglas.
Heav'n, and your gen'rous heart, reward your goodness,
Thou miracle of truth, and gen'rous love!
But what can I return to all your kindness?

Lady Beatrix.
A num'rous family of noble friends,
Earth's richest treasure, shall requite my brothers:
And me, your stedfast truth and virtuous love.

Sir William Douglas.
More gen'rous still! with such increase of fortune.

Lady Beatrix.
Truth scorns to alter, or by wealth, or want.

Sir William Douglas.
How exquisite thy joy's cœlestial virtue!
Thou join'd our souls; nor shall they e'er divide.
Fools in a thoughtless, gay, delirium rove,
As passion whirls, they either lothe or love;
And, if their bonds unbroken must remain,
They fret, they rage, and struggle with their chain.

Lady Beatrix.
But happy they whom heav'nly virtue binds,
Unfelt she ties consenting kindred minds:
Truth, honour, reason, gentle love remain
The shining links of her immortal chain:
By these confin'd, the happy captives stay,
And bask, and brighten in her heav'nly day.

Sir William Douglas.
Th'Eternal rais'd her adamantine throne
Of solid rock, coeval with his own.
Below the world's, its fixt foundation lies,
And high as heav'n's, he bad the summit rise.
Dissolve shall earth, and heav'n shall melt away,
Ere virtue's bands dissolve, her power decay.

Exeunt.