University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Stuart, Grime.
Grime.
Wherefore thus alone?
Thy noble Kinsman, who now parted hence,
Observes a sullen Cloud o'erhang thy Brow.—
Since from the Dungeon to his Wish restor'd,
A mute Aversion to his Love, secludes
Thy lonely Steps—

Stuart.
Yes,—thou thyself hast nam'd
The Cause accurs'd!—ha, from the Dungeon freed!—
And freed by whom!—there's Poison in the Thought!
—Am I not Hostage of my Uncle's Shame?—

Grime.
Thou dwell'st on that too much.—Few live exempt
From Disappointment and Disgrace, who run
Ambition's rapid Course.—Inur'd to Pain,
The hard'ned Soul, at last, forgets to feel
The Scourge of Fate; and fearless, rushes on
To Deeds advent'rous.—

Stuart.
Who shall frame th'Attempt
That Stuart dreads t'atchieve?—not Pestilence
Not raging Seas, nor livid Flames can bound
My dauntless Undertaking!—Tell me, Grime,
For thou wast train'd to Feats of horrid Proof,
Since, not the Voice of Heav'n itself, can lure
My Honour back again;—what Pow'r of Hell
Shall I invoke to deepen my Revenge?—

Grime.
Ha! Did'st thou say, Revenge?—Hail, sable Pow'r,
To me more dear than Riches or Renown!
What gloomy Joy, to drench the Dagger deep
In the proud Heart of him who robb'd my Fame!
My Fortune thwarted; or essay'd by Fraud
To poison my Delights!—

Stuart.
Ha! thou hast rous'd
The Scorpion-Thought that stings me!—
—Mark me, Grime,—
Our baffled Cause could not alarm me thus:
If Conquest for the Foe declar'd to Day;
Our Arms again the Vagrant might compel,
And chain her to our Side.—But know, my Love
Has been defrauded!—Eleonora's Heart
That Wretch invades.—That Ravisher, who cropt
My budding Fame and sunk me to Reproach!
He, whom my Jealousy, in all its Rage,
Hath singled for Destruction!—

Grime.
He shall die!—

Stuart.
Yes, he shall die!—He shall be flea'd—impal'd!
And his torn Bowels thrown to Beasts of Prey!—
My savage Hate shall on his Tortures feed!
I will have Vengeance!

Grime.
Would'st thou have it full,
Include his Patrons.—

Stuart.
Ha!—What—shall my Arm
Unsheath the secret Steel!

Grime.
Yes.—Strike at once,
For Liberty, Ambition and Revenge.—
Let the proud Tyrant yield his haughty Soul:
And all his Offspring swell the sanguine Stream.
Let Angus perish too.—

Stuart.
O wond'rous Plan
Of unrestrain'd Barbarity!—It suits
The Horrors of my Bosom!—All!—What all?
In slaughter'd Heaps.—The Progeny and Sire!—
To sluice them in th'unguarded Hour of Rest!—
Infernal Sacrifice!—dire—ev'n too dire
For my Despair!—To me what have they done
To merit such Returns?—No, my Revenge
Demands the Blood of one, and he shall fall.—

Grime.
It shall suffice—Dunbar shall bleed alone.—
But let us seize him on the Verge of Bliss;
When the fond Maid's enkind'ling Looks confess
The Flames of bashful Love: When eager Joy,
And modest Fear, by Turns exalt the Blush
To a more fervid Glow.—When Eleonora
Unfolds Elysium to his raptur'd View,
And smiles him to her Arms.—

Stuart.
Hah!—Light'ning scorch
Thy Tongue, Blasphemer!—Sooner may this Globe
Be hurl'd to the profound Abyss of Hell!—
But vain are Words.—This is no Place—remember,
He shall not triumph thus!—Thou hast bely'd him—
He means it not.—Nor will the Syren smile—
No, Grime,—she dares not smile him to her Arms!

Grime.
Reproach, or mute Disgust, is the Reward
Of candid Friendship, that disdains to hide
Unpalatable Truth!—I tell thee, Youth,
Betroth'd by Angus to Dunbar, she yields
Her plighted Faith, this Hour.—But see!—the Maid
Moves hitherward alone!—

Stuart.
Haste,—leave me, Grime!
My soul is up in Arms!—my Vengeance boils!
Love, Jealousy, implacable Despair
In Tempests wheel.—

Grime.
Thou shalt not tarry here!—
Thy frantic Rage may rashly overturn
Our whole Design!—

Stuart.
Let me not urge again
Thy swift Departure!—hence—I come anon.—

[Exit Grime.