University of Virginia Library

Act IV

Scene I

(A magnificent apartment in Holyrood House, Edinburgh, splendidly decorated for a fancy ball, in the center of which a throne of purple is raised, embroidered with gold against which leans the harp of the Minstrel of Mirandola. Enter Highland ladies and gentlemen, who dance to delightful music. Enter Charles Stuart as king, Flora Macdonald as Melpomene, Madalena, or the Page, as Apollo, and Sir Ronald as Mars.)
Charles Stuart
(Leading Apollo to the throne.)
Swell high the joyful notes! swell high the joyful song!
And let thy trembling fingers kiss the strings
As softly as the zephyrs sigh amen.
Thy raven locks, now flowing on thy neck
Of alabaster purity. Break forth
And let thy modulations be so soft
As echoes from the sighs of those that love.
Apollo's Song
If you break the smallest link
In the softest earthly chain,
Save the one of which I think,
You may mend it oft again;
But the heart that ever is riven,
Oh, it cannot mended be,
For its links were made in Heaven,
And the smiles that came from thee.
If you rob the turtle's nest,
If her little ones she tries,
All the next day to find rest,
With her pinions in the skies;
And, alas! wherever driven,
She is willing there to be
Just because she has no Heaven,
Like my soul, love, without thee!

(The king and Mars retire among the crowd to the back of the stage, while Melpomene, who has been gazing on him intently, approaches him with the Golden Violet of Minstrelsy.)
Melpomene
If tales of other times be true, sweet Page,
Thou art indeed the God of Minstrelsy.)

Apollo
And thou, sweet Melpomene, the Tragic Muse.

Melpomene
As thy acinthus was of yore to young
Catona's child, so let me be to thee.
And let the badge of Minstrelsy be placed,
By Caledonia's mournful flower upon
Thy youthful heart. (Placing it on his heart.)


Apollo
I thank thee, Queen of Love,
For who would not be crowned by thy fair hand,
When in thy sunny smiles the meanest flower
Is made to blossom in eternal youth.

Melpomene
Relinquish not thy hold, fair gentle youth.
And let the flower of Caledonia's isle
Present thee, kneeling, with the richest gift
That ever shone on earth, an honest heart.

Apollo
Thy heart, fair lady! No, the gift were far
Too great for aught but Caledonia's son.

Melpomene
And may not Caledonia's Mournful Flower
Be made the Crown of thy divinity?

Apollo
'Tis prudence, not disdain, forbids it now.
But were thy Minstrel aught but what he is,
Thou shouldst behold thy more than beauteous smiles
Reflected from the mirror of his soul,
As clearly as Diana's face in Heaven
Beholds her likeness in the lowly sea;
For thy art now as far above thy Page,
As was Diana when she left her Heaven
To seek Endymion on the Carian Mount.

Melpomene
Nay, why the downcast sadness of thine eyes,
In which there is so much of love divine,
As if the schoolboy's genius had been just
Rebuked in innocence? Nay, look not so.

Apollo
Were thy Fernando to receive thy gift
He could not make thee suitable amends,
And thou, his benefactor, wouldst have power
To bind his soul in thraldom from this hour,
Even to the sullying of his purity.
When next we meet, fair lady mine, thou wilt
Forgive me for declining thy fair hand,
And save me from imploring pardon now.

(Descending from the throne.)
Melpomene
Stay, gentle youth! Depart not from me yet!

Apollo
Nay, thou shalt lift thy drooping head ere long,
And give thy odor to the godlike Charles,
Thou hadst forgotten he was king? Farewell!
(Exit Apollo.)

Melpomene
The king! (Charles Stuart comes forward.)

My royal Charles—thy Page is my king.
A nobler being never lived on earth.

Charles Stuart
He is so hale, he seems not of this world,
But of some glorious sphere where all is love.

(They dance again to delightful musick when the king and Melpomene retire to the back of the stage. Reenter Apollo as Nymph of Dian.)
Mars
(Hastily approaching her.)
Sweet Nymph of Dian! Oh, that beauteous face!
Now to the snowy wings of hope lead me
Again into the rosy bowers of peace,
Where Beauty is made noble in love.
Sweet Nymph, the God of War alone should lead
Thee through the mazy dance.

Nymph of Dian
The God of War
Should seek some hand more suited to his taste.
The Nymph of Dian, drawn by four white stags
In chariot of rich pearl, would ill befit
The Thunder-Phaeton of the God of War.

Mars
There is but one immortal thing on earth,
That is the soul—that soul is love—that love
Can bring the gods down from their lofty thrones,
And bind them here on earth with rosy hands.

Nymph of Dian
Whose flowing festoons they must often break,
And, bringing their most precious leaves to earth,
Inhale the fragrance of the dying flower
With more than wanton joy.

Mars
Such never loved.
As divers value most the pearl that they
Have fetched from stormy seas, so will my soul
Value the jewel snatched from hours like these;
For love is strongest in the boldest heart;
The dulness of the quiet hour will make
The lion feeble.

Nymph of Dian
Woman is not so.
The strongest of her affections is the same
In hours of greatest peril as in peace;
She is the same unchanging thing you see—
Full of undying love. But I have loved.
'Tis said the smiles of woman's love fall on
Thy heart like moonlight on the crystal rill
That winter has congealed.

Mars
It has been so;
But now affection's day-god melts away
The unsunned ice that froze my formal heart,
And lets its crystal fountains loose for thee.
Th' immortal beauty of thy face is now
Buffeted from the mirror of that stream,
Which thy sweet notes have thawed to flowing love.
See how Diana climbs the Hills of Heaven, (Looking out.)

As if she sought the chambers of the Sun,
Meek as the soul that seeks thy love tonight,
For as the night without the glorious Moon,
So is my soul without thy richer smiles.

Nymph of Dian
How sad she seems.

Mars
What looks she like to thee?

Nymph of Dian
Priligion leaning on the breast of God.

Mars
See how she gazes on this world below
As if she wondered how we love so much,
Not knowing that my soul burns on for thee,
In ceaseless splendor like her own sweet light.

Nymph of Dian
I would not be ungrateful for the world;
The ungrateful soul is like the faithless dog,
That snarls while eating from his master's hand;
I, therefore, smile upon the noble Mars,
And give him thanks.

Mars
Nay, do not leave me yet!
The rose exhaling its sweets to heaven
Invites the florist to its native bower.

Nymph of Dian
Yes, we must part.

Mars
Not yet.

Nymph of Dian
Indeed, we must

Mars
There is no glory in the warriour's strife,
Wherein his soul is prompted to high deeds,
So spirit-stirring as one hour with thee.
The Moon, now holding of her silent course
In Heaven, moves not along that blue serene
With grace more pensive than thy gentle steps
Sped like the antelopes in joy to me.

Nymph of Dian
But say, thou hast forgot the Minstrel Boy?

Mars
Ah, dost thou know that generous boy?

Nymph of Dian
I do;
And see you have forgotten him that said,
But now, you never could forget.

Mars
That boy;
I never will forget him in the world.
But have you seen the face of that fair youth?

Nymph of Dian
I have most noble Mars. I learn he is
Thy chief companion.

Mars
Nearest to my heart
Of all on earth, except the one who now
Adores him more than she dare say.

Nymph of Dian
I do,
Great Mars, adore that gentle youth.

Mars
Dost love
That gentle boy?

Nymph of Dian
With all my heart. Why, is
It strange the Nymph of Dian should so love?

Mars
It is not strange for no one ever saw
His face, who did not love.

Nymph of Dian
I am in love.
Wilt thou not recommend me to that Page?
Come, thou shalt promise me when next we meet,
That this same Page shall speak of me in terms
Borrowed from thy most lofty praise.

Mars
All that
The tongue of man can say shall then be said.
(Aside.)
That is the first time Ronald ever lied!
(Exit Nymph of Dian.)
I would not have her to behold that Page
For Stuart's wealth in Caledonia's crown!
What, gone! Then I must kneel here all alone.

(Ee kneels, his bowed head on his hand. They dance off again to delightful music, then exeunt omnes. Reenter Nymph of Dian as Fernando the Page.
Page
What, Mars upon his knees? The God of War
Should not permit his knees to kiss the earth.
To what idolatry is valour bowed?
Perhaps at this propitious hour thy heart
Is playing truant with thy country's cause;
Is worship of some great divinity
More sacred than Charles Stuart's crown?

Mars
Thy words are truth, fair Page.

Page
Where are thine eyes
That, in the burnished glare of solid steel,
Can pierce the vistas of the warriour's helms,
And court the bannered host afar; but still
Are blind to Flora's heavenly charms.

Mars
(Aside)
Thank God!
The generous boy has coupled his desires
With all my hopes. The nymph of Dian's name
Shall not be mentioned lest it free new hopes.
Flora Macdonald—she is neither thine
But not the love of Mars—thine is the heart—
Genius like thine is Flora's soul's delight.
But look, thou art the same angelic-limbed,
Sweet creature like the frightened antelope.
As much as is the Moon upon the sea
The likeness of the same sweet Moon in Heaven!
And now thy sighs responsive to thy smiles
Are all like hers—they are the same to me,
And yet thou art Fernando. Speak again!

Page
Methinks, great Mars, the God of Wine
Has brought thee to thy knees. In love, my lord? (Fondingly.)

Did not the downward flowing of her locks
Grow ashen in the fires of thy breath,
Like the sad droopings of the willow bough,
Swayed by the kisses of the odorous breeze? (Teasingly.)

For like the cedar evergreen, she stood,
Courting my whispers with her amorous looks
And, grasping held my hand, prest it so soft,
A thrill of tenderness ran through my heart,
And told me what her own then felt—(Enough)—(Aside.)

(Flora Macdonald is not loved by Mars)—(Aloud.)

Until my raptured soul drank in her words,
Which made my heart intoxicate with sweets,
And sounds of harmony. Ay, lived upon
Her sighs, as on an atmosphere of song,
Which seemed to feed me with immortal youth!

Mars
By Heavens, thy words are echoes of her own!
Thy smiles—thy very eyes like hers—all—all—
Hast thou no sister?

Page
None in all this world.

Mars
Ah, thou incarnate spirit! thou art so
Engrafted in my soul that all the world
Seems hallowed by thy beams. Come we must go.

(Exeunt.)

Scene II

(A private apartment in Holyrood House. Enter Charles Stuart to Fernando.)
Page
Oh, good my lord, have you not seen
The lovely Flora yet.

Charles Stuart
Why ask me that
Which you already know? She kist thy hand,
Beguiled the time most ardently with you.

Page
Indeed, she did not, though she prest it oft,
And trembled while she did so; hers was moist
And softer than the down upon the swan.

Charles Stuart
And did she sigh to thee?

Page
She did, my lord,
Presenting me a jeweled ring, which shone
Like Hesperus. Her words dropt from her lips
Like honey from the parted comb.

Charles Stuart
(Aside)
Fine words—
The very ring I gave to her—fine words;
And you accepted it, of course?

Page
Not so,
I bade her earnestly take back the gift,
And in refusing whispered in her ear,
Those soothing words which were more grateful than
Apologies.

Charles Stuart
In love!

Page
Is that a crime?

Charles Stuart
It is. What would the Caledonian Flower
Do with DiOssima, my youthful Page?

Page
I thought as much, therefore, refused the gifts.

Charles Stuart
But know you not that Ronald is in love?

Page
With whom, my lord?

Charles Stuart
With Flora, to be sure.

Page
It is—it is not so.

Charles Stuart
Art sure of that?

Page
I spoke to him in Madalena's praise,
At which his bosom panted as for war.
He loves thy daughter as he does his life.

Charles Stuart
Nay, you shall have my Madalena, boy.

Page
Indeed, Sir Ronald would be jealous then.
He has best right to Madalena's love.

Charles Stuart
But mind! You sing for Flora no more songs.

Page
What, think you that Fernando would unsurp
The right of royal Charles? Was it for this
He left his native land—became thy Page?

Charles Stuart
Most noble boy, thou art thyself again!
Come to my arms!

Page
(Embracing him.)
Then promise me one thing,
Shall not Sir Ronald be thy son?

Charles Stuart
He shall,
For he is noble, worthy of my child.

Page
Then, let me go, for he must know of this.

Charles Stuart
But mind! I will be jealous if he grasp
Thy hand too often; it must all be mine.
(Exit Page.)
(Enter Lochiel)
What news, my noble friend?

Lochiel
No news, my lord,
But from that Boisdale.

Charles Stuart
The Highland Chief?

Lochiel
The very same.

Charles Stuart
He was the first who chanced
To meet me on the shore.

Lochiel
The first, my lord?

Charles Stuart
The very first.

Lochiel
Well, that is strange.

Charles Stuart
Why so?

Lochiel
Did he receive you with much joy?

Charles Stuart
Not he—
It was no greeting such as thine.

Lochiel
Most true.
But did no angry words between you pass?

Charles Stuart
Not one. When he refused to bring us troops,
My Page accosted him with his drawn sword,
At which his bosom panted like the sea,
As if it bore an agony within,
Too mighty for his heart.

Lochiel
Would he had burst.

Charles Stuart
Why so?

Lochiel
Because he is thy deadliest foe.

Charles Stuart
I care not for his rage. There never was
A storm without a calm.

Lochiel
There is no calm
To his eternal storm.

Charles Stuart
I heed him not.
Man's passion is the suicidal act
That kills itself. Why should I care for him?

Lochiel
He will destroy thy life.

Charles Stuart
How heard you this?

Lochiel
From his own lips.

Charles Stuart
From his own lips? The fool
Has impudence enough to drown his rage.

Lochiel
It is amphibious—cannot drown.

Charles Stuart
What is
The cause of this?

Lochiel
Thy Flora, so he says.

Charles Stuart
The fool is mad. Tell Ronald of this thing,
He must be watched.

Lochiel
He has an evil heart.
The lion, raged, will show his teeth—he will
Uncase his fangs—they are the shafts of death.
He seemed to gather all his soul in one.
Great effort to disgorge his wrath, his lungs
Still heaving like the sea, his nostrils wide,
His visage all inflated, dark as Hell,
His eyeballs glaring, forehead pursed to frowns,
His lips still pregnant with intent to speak,
His arm highlifted, clenched his fists,
As if to clutch his victim by the throat,
His teeth still grinding all distinct to view,
As when the wild boar whets his tusks for war;
And thus while laboring to repress his wrath,
Which like the swollen torrent would come forth,
He vomited his black bile on thy name.

Charles Stuart
Look out for him! Set every blood hound on
His track; pursue him to the Gates of Death;
When found precipitate him down to Hell!

(Exeunt)

Scene III

(Culloden, the battlefield. Enter Sir Ronald and Fernando to Charles Stuart. Alarums.)
Charles Stuart
What news from Falkirk?

Sir Ronald
Glorious news,
But sadder far than glorious is the news
That comes from old Drumossie Muir!

Charles Stuart
What news?

Sir Ronald
The Chiefs are routed from the field; one half
Are slain. We must not tarry here, come fly!

Charles Stuart
No, let me rally our brave men again,
And cheer their drooping spirits for the fight.
What, would you have us run like frightened lambs,
From the obstreperous howlings of such wolves?
No, let my cousin of Cumberland come on!

Sir Ronald
(Alarums.)
My lord, thy valor should be curbed awhile!
Let prudence by thy shield to save thy life!
It is too noble to be lost in such
Inglorious strife. If we are beaten, we
Must fly. Away, the foe is near us now.

Charles Stuart
Adversity may chill the heart of Charles,
But no despair shall ever quench its fire.

(Alarums.)
Page
Come, we must fly! Away to Boradale.

Charles Stuart
What, fly to Boradale where first my Page,
In Scotland's holy name took up his lyre,
And like the river to the parching vales,
Poured on my thirsting soul the tide of song,
Which made the flowers of love immortal grow?
No, let them come; my soul is mighty yet.

Sir Ronald
I heard the clangor of the eagle's wings
Hurtling amid the bustling clouds of Heaven,
While clambering up their perilous cliffs
To fan the sun to glory. On he flew!
My sight grew tired to follow him so far,
When suddenly as if by lightnings struck,
He curveted once more the bounds of Heaven.

Charles Stuart
Stay the bold eagle in his flight to Heaven,
Or pierce the bosom of the milky swan
Soaring aloft above the reed isles green.
As well may ye attempt to curb me now.
I tell you that my soul is mighty yet.

Sir Ronald
Fair as the Moon that came to watch her there,
Feeding an eagle from an ivory cup,
That Genius sculptured for the Feast of Fame.
And while he stood there pouring out his song
Drinking the fire of glory from her hand,
A voice from out the angry cloud was heard
Muttering dolorous vengeance in her soul.
I saw him fix his keen eye on the throne,
And ere the thunderbolt could lay her low,
Anchored his talons on the perilous shaft,
And saved his holy Minister from death!

Charles Stuart
A dream more beauteous never has been told.
Before me in the visions of the night,
Went the tall warhouse through the Highland camp,
Lifting his trumpet nostrils in the air,
With feet dabling in blood. Heard ye no sound?
The fiery depths of the infernal world
Seemed to disgorge the entrails of her wrath.

Sir Ronald
My lord, it was an omen of thy fall!

Charles Stuart
But on that steed a rider rode, who said,
“Remember Stuart, to avenge my death!”
It was my father. He is mighty yet. (Alarums.)


(Enter Lochiel in haste.)
Lochiel
My lord, we are in danger here. Come, fly!
The living are now treading on the slain,
Like sleepless ghosts that come to stalk the world,
Vomiting the fire of desolation forth!

Charles Stuart
Who leads them on?

Lochiel
That traitor Boisdale.

Charles Stuart
Oh, for a hundred thousand years to kill
Him in! Had he as many lives as there
Are sands upon the sea, I'd kill them all.

Sir Ronald
They come my lord, they come upon us now!

Charles Stuart
Come forth my sword! Draw, every one of you,
And let us stand for Liberty or Death.

(Enter Boisdale with English soldiers.)
Boisdale
Behold the power of Boisdale's revenge.
He comes to set thee on thy throne in Hell!

Charles Stuart
This sword shall be thy passport to that place.
Come on, ye paleface, chicken-hearted rats!
And let me teach you Stuart's skill. No, stand,
And let your hearts grow stronger by delay.

Boisdale
Give back the jewel which you stole from me!
You cannot wear it on your crown—'tis lost.

Charles Stuart
I wear your jewel, as you call her, in
My heart.

Boisdale
Give back that jewel or thy life!

Soldier
Was it for public or for private good,
You brought us here?

Boisdale
For public good

Charles Stuart
Thou fiend!
I will not suffer thee to live an hour!

(They fight. Sir Ronald, Lochiel, and Fernando, back out the Soldiers, while Stuart forces Boisdale off the stage. Alarums. Reenter Charles Stuart and Fernando.)
Page
Where is that villian Boisdale?

Charles Stuart
He fled.

Page
Where is Sir Ronald?

Charles Stuart
Fighting still.

Page
Where? now,
My lord, he may be slain!

Charles Stuart
No, he shall live,
He is too brave to die.

Page
See, Lochiel comes;
But not Sir Ronald, he is slain! (Reenter Lochiel.)


Charles Stuart
How now?

Page
Where is Sir Ronald? Speak!

Lochiel
My lord, he lives.
Thy cousin of Cumberland is on the field;
Ten thousand pounds are offered for thy head.

Charles Stuart
A thousand pounds I would not give that price
For all the heads in Christendom, were they
Not such as thine. What think you of that dog's?

Lochiel
What, Boisdale? I would not have his heart.
He comes replenished with new troops.

Charles Stuart
Again?

Lochiel
Again, my lord.

Charles Stuart
I thought he had enough.

Lochiel
The bloodhound is upon thy track—he thirsts
Not only for the prize, but for thy blood!

Charles Stuart
Then he shall die for want of both.

Lochiel
Then, fly
To Boradale! While my words hang on
His lips, the fires of Hell burn in his heart!
The foe is near us now. Thy flight is safe
To Boradale!

Charles Stuart
Come hither, Page.

Page
(Approaching him.)
My, lord!

Charles Stuart
(Giving him a letter.)
Be thou unto me as the faithful Dove
That goest in quest of some immortal leaf,
Then comes back laden to an Ark divine.

Page
The Eagle may outsoar the Dove—but yet
The Dove flies swifter to her native nest.
The bee that gathers honey from the flower,
Knows where to find that tender flower again;
And as it hungers for the same sweet flower,
So will Fernando for his master's love.

Charles Stuart
Then we shall wrestle with the storms of fate,
Like Jacob with his angel in the night,
And rise up from the labour with the strength
Of an immortal. Fare thee well!

Page
Farewell!

Charles Stuart
I send thee from the Ark to my fond love,
A cross the deluge of deep grief to fly,
And bring me back the olive leaf of Peace.

Page
I will if there is dry land to be found.

(Exit.)
Lochiel
My lord, the foe is near us now!

Charles Stuart
They are,
Let us evade them; lie in ambush here.
They will not harm Fernando?

Lochiel
No, they ask
Thy life, not his.

Charles Stuart
Meanwhile, you seek
Sir Ronald—bring him safe to Boradale.

Lochiel
I will, my lord. Farewell, till we shall meet
Again.

Charles Stuart
Farewell, may Heaven defend thy steps.

(Exeunt.)

Scene IV

(Another part of the field. Enter Sir Joshua Macdonald wounded, leaning on Fernando 's arm.)
Page
(Dropping the letter)
Macdonald wounded? Dying? Speak, my friend!

Macdonald
Ay, wounded but not dead.

Page
Then rise again
And let us seek our Prince.

Macdonald
No, let me die.
I would not live to see my country's fall!

Page
Ay, rise; the enemy is near us now.

Macdonald
Had I an eagle's wings I would not fly.

Page
Then lean upon Fernando's arm; though weak
Yet will it help to bear you from the field.
(As he attempts to rise, he falls again.)
Oh, noble chieftain, thou art gone, too late!

Macdonald
Take back my dying words—go to my Prince,
Tell him that my daughter is his wife.

Page
As thy last dying wish, it shall be done.
How art thou now, brave friend?

Macdonald
I am no more. (Dies.)


Page
Oh God, my noble friend is dead. Farewell!

(Enter Boisdale picking up the letter.)
Boisdale
What have we here? A letter! Yes, a dead
Man and a Page. This comes of thy great lord.

Page
(Approaching him)
Give me that letter—it is mine!

Boisdale
'Tis thine?
How came it on the ground?

Page
I dropt it there.
Do give it to me!

Boisdale
Who gave it to you? The king?
It goes to Ormaclade. I see it does.
It is directed to his amorous queen.
Then as the amorous Wind deflowers the Rose,
So will I rifle it of all its sweets.

Page
Oh, do not break the seal—I beg you not!

Boisdale
What was his charge concerning it? Speak quick!

Page
Oh, do not break the seal!

Boisdale
Was that his charge?
Then will I break it, as I will his heart.

Page
Oh, do not! for a thousand worlds I would
Not have you break that seal!

Boisdale
Then tell me all.
Where is thy king? Speak, or the letter flies.

Page
Nay, give it me.

Boisdale
Will not the contents tell?
Speak, or it flies! (He breaks open the letter and reads.)

The sealing of thy lips
And not my hands, did break the seal. Away!
Go, bear it to thy mistress—all is right. (Returns the letter.)


Page
For this rash act thy blood shall drench the earth!

Boisdale
Be not too rash or thine shall flow. You know
You called me traitor once.

Page
Ay, traitor thrice!
A double villian! earth has not thy match,
No, nor the depths of Hell. All honest men
Shall hate the name of one named after thee,
And evil men grow jealous of thy name,
Because thou art above all emulation!

Boisdale
Peace, peace, young boy!

Page
As you have broken this—
So is the seal upon my lips; now read
The contents of my soul!

Boisdale
Show not thy pearls,
Or if you will, but do it with a smile.

Page
Within the casket of my heart there lies
A truth, which couldst thou see, would strike thee blind!

Boisdale
It is so rare I only hear it when
It thunders; then I know 'twill rain.

Page
You are
No wit.

Boisdale
I do not pass for one.

Page
You are
A base, abandoned wretch! You are no man!
A serpent who has fangs, but fears to bite!

Boisdale
My poison then will do no harm.

Page
That is
No virtue. Good is negatived in you
By fear of doing evil. Good, without
Volition, is no good at all. An act,
To be a good one, must be done by one
Who does it for the sake of good. When did
You this?

Boisdale
Look there upon the ground. See what
Your king has done. Talk not of goodness now!

Page
What has he done?

Boisdale
Destroyed that good old man.

Page
Would he were here to hear that lie! Base fiend!
The last word that he spoke was of the king.
Nay, ask thy wretched soul—let conscience tell
Who is the murderer! Thy cheeks are pale!
It was thy very hand that took his life!

Boisdale
That letter is an antidote for thine.

Page
You dare not look me in the face.

Boisdale
Away!
And when thy heraldry is over, we
Shall meet again!

Page
No, never let me
See thy face again!

Boisdale
At Boradale we all
Shall meet again, where each shall know his doom.

(Exeunt severally. Enter Lochiel and Sir Ronald in haste.)
Sir Ronald
Where is my lord?

Lochiel
Fled—gone to Boradale.

Sir Ronald
Then let us hence. What have we here? Ye gods!
It is the temple of the mightiest soul
That ever lived in man.

Lochiel
Alas, what is
This world, if sacriligious hands shall rob
A temple of such heavenly workmanship,
Of such a soul?

Sir Ronald
It is an object world!
His thoughts were so sublime they were like stars
Above the midnight of men's minds, on which
They gazed with emulation, as of old,
The Chaldean Shepherds watched the stars with joy
And admiration. Look how low he lies!
See where the golden bowl was broken, how
The wine of life wastes on the abject earth.
It looks up in the peaceful face of Heaven,
Imploring vengeance on the foe!

Lochiel
Come, let
Us lay him in the dark cold—he rests.

Sir Ronald
And as the face of the embowered lake
Reflects the foliage on its verdant banks,
So shall the mirror of our deeds today,
Shew forth our actions to the latest time.

(Exeunt, bearing the body out.)

Scene V

(Ormaclade. A magnificent apartment in Macdonald's palace. Flora is seated on a sofa binding a bouquet of flowers. Enter Boisdale seizing her by the arm.)
Boisdale
Now Princess, thou art mine!

Flora
(Rising indignantly.)
What do you mean?
Let go my arm?

Boisdale
Where is thy Page?

Flora
I know
Not where he is. Why ask me that?

Boisdale
You have
Not heard the news?

Flora
What news?

Boisdale
Most direful news.
The king has fled!

Flora
Fled where?

Boisdale
To Boradale.
He was obliged to fly—his troops are slain.

Flora
Oh, joyless fate! Where is my father?

Boisdale
Dead!

Flora
My father dead! my father slain! Oh, God!
Then let me die! Who slew my father? You?

Boisdale
It is not known. You cannot now be queen.
His cousin of Cumberland will wear the crown.

Flora
Oh, joyless fate! There is no comfort now.

Boisdale
Look on the face of him who loves you still.
Oh, beauteous island in the Sea of Life!
Though darker be the waves around thee cast,
Yet will the sunshine of my former love,
Mantle thy bosom with the spring of joy!
There on thy beauteous bosom girt by waves
Of sorrow—let me lean my pensive head.

Flora
What would you have me do?

Boisdale
Be mine—forget
The past—look on me as thy lord—thy king—
Ay, wed thine equal—wed with him whom Heaven
Designed for thee.

Flora
Then show me to the king.

Boisdale
No, he is gone. Come, fly with me to some
Sweet island where we will be king and queen.
Where we will reign, the king and queen!
With you it would be peopled with the world.

Flora
Ah, Boisdale, have you not spoken false?

Boisdale
In what, my love?

Flora
Where is my father?

Boisdale
Dead!

Flora
The king?

Boisdale
In Hell, I hope.

Flora
Then, fly from me.

Boisdale
Be calm, my love.

Flora
My sorrows make me calm.

Boisdale
Then, will you not be mine?

Flora
No, Boisdale,
I tell thee, never!

Boisdale
Nay, relent! You know
I love you—love you as my life.

Flora
Away!

Boisdale
Will you live single?

Flora
Die the maid I am,
Or Stuart's wife.

Boisdale
But he is gone.

Flora
Then I
Will wed his memory.

Boisdale
Look down, ye gods!
And tell me from your starry thrones, what doom
Is hanging on me now?

Flora
The doom of death!

Boisdale
You echo but the voice of mine own soul.
For, rather now than live this living death,
I will put poison in the Cup of Fate,
And, drinking with the king thy health, go down
With him the bloody path to Hell! Farewell!

Flora
Death spurs the bloodless sides of his pale horse,
Impatient for thy life.

Boisdale
The king! the king!

(Exeunt severally.)

Scene V

(Boradale. The sea shore. A ship at anchor, lying in the distance. A storm. Thunder and lightning. Enter Charles Stuart disguised.)
Charles Stuart
The splintery lightnings scourge the angry clouds,
Until they weep themselves to death in rain;
While yonder sea lies hovering as with fear.
The mighty thunder rolls from cloud to cloud.
Shaking the ponderous earth with tremendous fear,
As if Heaven's battlements were tumbling down.
It is the footsteps of the mighty God
Walking in storms.

Boisdale
(without)
Howl on!

Charles Stuart
He comes.

(Enter Boisdale not observing Charles Stuart.)
Boisdale
Howl on,
Ye mighty Thunders, howl! the voice of Fiends
Were silence to the thunders of my thoughts.
Come down, ye massy clouds! Come down in floods,
And drown me like the sea. Tear up the pines
And pile them on my head as high as heaven.
Lead me to some impending cliffs, where rolls
The noiseless river of the dead—then pitch
Me down to Hell!

Charles Stuart
You stand upon that cliff.
Below is Hades! there, the inky stream
Which rolls in sullen lethargy along
The Vale of Death!

Boisdale
Is there oblivion in
That wave?

Charles Stuart
Eternal death! Oblivion stands,
With open arms to hide thee from the Past.

Boisdale
Put memory in the grave and all is well.

Charles Stuart
Thy life is forfeited!

Boisdale
Whose voice is that?
I know that voice—it echoes through my soul.
The dead sea of my heart is turned to fire,
And every hope lies drowned beneath the wave!

Charles Stuart
This sword shall be thy passport to that place!

Boisdale
Who wields that sword?

Charles Stuart
An enemy to thee!
Behold! (Throwing off his disguise.)


Boisdale
(Drawing)
Usurper! villian that thou art!
I am destruction—proof! You cannot hurt
Me now! Come on!

Charles Stuart
Strike, traitor, for thy last!

(they fight. Boisdale falls.)
Charles Stuart
Down—down among the Fiends!

Boisdale
The Fiends are here. (Dies.)


(Enter Flora Macdonald attended by Francisco, the Monk, and the Page.)
Charles Stuart
Oh, Flora, you have come in blessed time! (Embracing her.)


Flora
My lord, that traitor said that you were gone.

Charles Stuart
What traitor?

Flora
Boisdale.

Charles Stuart
Ah, name him not.
See where he lies—beneath the reach of hate.
The earth that gave him life now drinks his blood.
Where is Sir Ronald?

Page
Ah, he may be slain!

Charles Stuart
Macdonald?

Page
He is dead. I saw him die.

Charles Stuart
Ah, Flora, noble Flora, is he dead?

Flora
He is, my lord. Fernando says he is.

Charles Stuart
Then let me help you weep, for he was great.

Page
He bade me tell you, ere he died, he could
Not live to see his country's fall.

Charles Stuart
Alas,
All that could dignify the valorous heart,
And make him nobler than the rest of men,
Impelled him onward in his country's cause.

Page
He bade me say that Flora was your wife.

Charles Stuart
She is my wife—my noble wife! (Embracing her.)


(Enter Sir Ronald and Lochiel.)
Sir Ronald
My lord!

Charles Stuart
My noble friends, you are most welcome here!
My gratitude is all that I can give.

Sir Ronald
'Tis all we wish. We are most glad you live.

Charles Stuart
(Pointing to Boisdale.)
Look on the opprobrious earth! There lies
A traitor slain—rotting upon the earth
That valor has denied to him.

Sir Ronald
Poor fool!
If he had lived a thousand years, he could
Not have been better slain!

Lochiel
His life was one
Continual strife for that which Nature had
Denied to him!

Page
(To Sir Ronald)
Have you no word for me?

Sir Ronald
My heart is bankrupt for sufficient words
To give thee praise.

Charles Stuart
In all my sorrow there
Is joy.

Page
For sorrow is life's shade—the moon
Shines brightest in the darkest night—so does
The light of joy upon the greatest grief.

Charles Stuart
Thou art the Ministering Angel of my life,
And could I now behold my child—my own
Dear Madalena—I would die in peace.

Page
Then you shall die in peace—for here she is—
Behold thy child! (Throwing off his disguise.)


Charles Stuart
(Amazed)
What do I see? my child?
A spirit or my child?

Madalena
Thy child, thy child!

Charles Stuart
Come to my arms, my child! it is my child! (Clasping her in his arms.)


Sir Ronald
Great God, my heart is in my throat!

Charles Stuart
Look down
Ye angels, on this blessed sight! look down
Upon a father's love, who would not give
His child for all the thrones on earth.

Sir Ronald
Look down,
Ye Angels, who have watched above our souls!
She is the “Nymph of Dian!” (Embracing her.)


Madalena
God of War!

Flora
“Apollo” of the masquerade?

Madalena
The same
And thou sweet Melpomene the Tragic Muse!

Sir Ronald
As Stuart's “Page” I loved thee from my heart;
As “Nymph of Dian” better than his Page;
As Madalena better far than all!

Madalena
As Ronald's self alone, I loved you first;
“God of War”, I loved you none the less;
And now, as Ronald, first and last, I love
You still!

Sir Ronald
Then I am happy—happier far
Than if a king!

Charles Stuart
And I am king indeed!
Before high heaven, I join your hearts and hands.

Sir Ronald
I wish I had a thousand hearts; I'd give
Them with a thousand hands.

Charles Stuart
She is thy wife.
And now, sweet Flora, let me take thy hand,
And in the face of heaven pronounce thee mine.

Francisco
(Joining their hands)
I do present thee to thy lord, while with
The present, I bestow thy lord on thee.

(Alarums.)
Sir Ronald
Friends of my soul, we are in danger yet!

Charles Stuart
Come to my arms, my wife, my child!

(Alarums.)
Sir Ronald
They come!
Come, Lochiel, we must meet them front to front;
And save our friends!

(Exeunt Lochiel and Ronald. Alarums.)
Charles Stuart
We must not tarry here.
Come to the ship, the ship!

Madalena
Nay, father, stay!
I see Sir Ronald's plume! it waves! he reels!
He totters! sinks to the earth! he's slain! (She faints.)


Charles Stuart
She falls! Sir Ronald's slain! Now, we must fly!

(He bears his daughter in his arms, and they enter the ship as the curtain falls.)