University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

[SCENE I.]

SCENE Continues.
Angus, Dunbar.
Dunbar.
By Heav'n it glads me, that my Sword shall find
An ample Field to Day.—The King arrous'd,
Chafes like a Lion in the Toils betray'd?

Angus.
I mark'd his Indignation, as it rose
At Athol's proud Reply, from calm Concern,
To anxious Tumult, menacing Disdain,
And overboiling Wrath.—But say, my Friend,
How move the Rebels?—Are their Ranks dispos'd
By military Skill?—Or come they on
In undistinguish'd Crouds?—

Dunbar.
In Concourse rude
They swarm undisciplin'd—all arm'd alike
With Sword and Target.—On their first Assault
(Fearless indeed and headlong!) all their Hopes
Of Conquest, must depend.—If we, unbroke,
Sustain their Onset; little skill'd in War,
To wheel, to rally and renew the Charge,
Confusion, Havock and Dismay will seize
Th'astonish'd Rout.—

Angus.
What Numbers bring they on?

Dunbar.
Ten thousand, as I guess.—

Angus.
Ours scarce amount
To half the Number: Yet, with those, we mean,
To hazard an Encounter.—Thou, mean while,
Shalt visit ev'ry Passage, sound th'Alarm,
And man the City-Walls.—Here I attend
The King—and lo! he comes.—

[Exit Dunbar.

SCENE II.

King, Angus.
King.
—The Commonweal
Has been consulted.—Tenderness and Zeal
Became the Parent.—Those have nought avail'd.—
Now, let Correction speak the King incens'd!

Angus.
Not without Cause, my Liege, shall dread Rebuke
Attend your royal Wrath.—What Reign shall 'scape
Rebellion's Curse, when your paternal Sway
Has hatch'd the baneful Pest?

King.
Let Heaven decide
Between me and my Foes.—That I would spare
The guiltless Blood which must our Quarrel dye,
No other Proof requires, than my Advance
To Reconcilement—opposite perhaps
To my own Dignity.—But I will rise
In Vengeance mighty! and dispel the Clouds
That have bedimm'd my State.

Angus.
The Odds are great
Between the Numbers: But our Cause is just:
Our Soldiers regularly train'd to War,
And not a Breast among us, entertains
A Doubt of Victory.

King.
O valiant Thane!
Experienc'd oft, and ever trusty found!
Thy penetrating Eye, and active Zeal
First brought this foul Conspiracy to Light;
And now thy faithful Vassals, first appear
In Arms for my Defence!—Thy Recompence
My Love shall Study.

Angus.
Blotted be my Name
From Honour's Records, when I stand aloof,
Regardless of the Danger that surrounds
The Fortunes of my Prince!

King.
I know thee well.—
Mean time, our Care must be, to obviate
With Circumspection and preventive Skill,
Their Numbers.—In unequal Conflict joins
Th'unwieldy Spear that loads the Borderer,
With the broad Targe and expeditious Sword:
The loyal Band that from the Hills of Lorn
Arriv'd, shall in our Front advance, and stand
With Targe to Targe, and Blade to Blade oppos'd;
The Spears extended form the second Line,
And our light Archers hover to and fro,
To gall their Flanks.—Whatever Accident
In Battle shall befal, thy Vigilance
Will remedy.—Myself will here remain
To guard the Town, and with a small Reserve,
(If Need requires) thine Exigence supply.

Angus.
With Joy, the glorious Task I undertake!

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Dunbar, Ramsay.
Ramsay.
They halt, and occupy the narrow Pass
Form'd by the River and th'impending Hill;
With Purpose (as I deem) to charge our Host
On the small Plain that skirts the Town.—

Dunbar.
'Tis well.—
Thus hemm'd, their useless Numbers will involve
Themselves in Tumult, to our Arms secure
An easy Conquest, and retard their Flight.—
To Angus hie thee straight with this Advice.—
My Task perform'd, I wait the King's Command
In this appointed Place.—

[Exit Ramsay.

SCENE IV.

Eleonora, Dunbar.
Eleonora.
I sought thee, Youth.—
Ere yet this dreadful Crisis shall decide
The public Fate, let us to private Woe
Devote one Moment!—Tell me, brave Dunbar,
Wilt thou not, from the Hurry of the Day,
One Moment snatch to hear me, and condole
The Anguish of my Soul?—

Dunbar.
O Eleonora!
Sooner shall the parch'd Traveller refuse
The gelid Fountain, than my raptur'd Soul
The Music of thy Tongue!—What Grief profanes
Thy spotless Bosom?—happy! far above
The Pride of Conquerors, were I to ease
Thy Sorrow's Pangs!—

Eleonora.
Thy gen'rous Heart alone
Can brook the Enterprize—

Dunbar.
O! task my Love;
That I more swift than Gales that sweep the Plain,
May fly to thy Relief!

Eleonora.
Then summon up
Those elevated Thoughts, that lift the Soul
To Virtue's highest Pinnacle; the Boon
My Misery demands, will crave them all!—

Dunbar.
Be it to brave the Menaces of Death
In Shape however horrid, so my Faith
And Love remain inviolate, my Heart
Beats with unusual Ardor; and demands
The Test, impatient!—

Eleonora.
Friendless and forlorn,
In Fetters Stuart lies!—

Dunbar.
Ha!

Eleonora.
From the Snares
Of gloomy Fate release him.—

Dunbar.
Cruel Maid!—
Nay, let me call thee barbarous! in spite
Of Adoration.—Could thy Mind suggest
No forward Slave, to set thy Lover free,
But a despairing Rival?—'Tis not giv'n
Th'impassion'd Soul of Man, to execute
A Deed so fatal to its own Repose!

Eleonora.
I sought not—witness ye celestial Powers!
To aggravate thy Pain—my Mind, perplex'd,
Revolv'd in silent Woe, nor could unload
Her Burden to another.—Thou alone,
Hast won my fair Opinion and my Trust;
And to thy Word indebted, Honour claims
Th'Engagement all her own.—

Dunbar.
Yet, with Reserve
Was that impawn'd: My Loyalty and Love
Were sacred ev'n from that: Nor can I loose
His Chains, without an Injury to Both!—

Eleonora.
Cold—unaspiring is the Love that dwells
With tim'rous Caution; and the Breast untouch'd
By Glory's Godlike Fervour, that retains
The Scruples of Discretion.—Let the Winds
That have dispers'd thy Promise, snatch thy Vows!—

Dunbar.
Shall I, thro' rash Enthusiasm, wed
Eternal Anguish?—Shall I burst asunder
The Bonds of awful Justice, to preserve
The Serpent that has poison'd all my Peace!—
No, Eleonora!—blasted be—

Eleonora.
Take heed!
Nor by an Oath precipitate, involve
Thy Fate beyond Resource: For know, Dunbar,
The Love of Stuart, with his Guilt abjur'd,
This Morn, my solemn Vow to Heav'n appeal'd,
Hath sever'd us for ever.—

Dunbar.
Then, I'm still!—
Still as the gentle Calm, when the hush'd Wave
No longer foams before the rapid Storm!—
Let the young Traitor perish, and his Name
In dark Oblivion rot.—

Eleonora.
Shall I, alas!
Supinely savage, from my Ears exclude
The Cries of youthful Woe?—of Woe intail'd
By me too!—If my Heart denies him Love,
My Pity, sure, may flow!—Has he not Griefs
That wake ev'n thy Compassion?—Say, Dunbar,
Unmov'd could'st thou survey th'unhappy Youth
(Whom but this Morn beheld in Pride of Hope
And Pow'r magnificent!) stretch'd on the Ground
Of a damp Dungeon, groaning with Despair!
With not one Friend his Sorrows to divide,
And chear his lone Distress?—

Dunbar.
Can I resist
So fair a Motive, and so sweet a Tongue!
When thy soft Heart with kind Compassion glows,
Shall I the tender Sentiment repress?—
No!—let me rather hail the social Pang;
And ev'ry selfish Appetite subdu'd,
Indulge a Flame so gen'rous and humane!—
—Away with each Emotion that suggests
A Rival favour'd and a Traitor freed!
My Love unbounded reigns, and scorns to own
Reflection's narrow Limits!—Yes, my Fair,
This Hour he shall be free.—
[Exit Dunbar.

SCENE V.

Eleonora.
O wond'rous Power
Of Love beneficent!—O gen'rous Youth!
What Recompence (thus bankrupt as I am!)
Shall speak my grateful Soul!—A poor Return
Cold Friendship renders to the fervid Hope
Of fond Desire! and my invidious Fate
Allows no more.—But let me not bewail,
With Avarice of Grief, my private Woe;
When pale with Fear, and harrass'd with Alarm,
My royal Mistress, still benign to me,
The zealous Tender of my Duty claims.
[Exit.

SCENE VI.

Discovers Stuart in Chains.
Stuart.
Curse on my headstrong Passion!—I have earn'd
The Wages of my Folly!—Is it thus
My faithless Destiny requites my Hope!

SCENE VII.

Stuart, Dunbar.
Stuart.
Ha! com'st thou to insult my Chains?—'Twas well
My unpropitious Dæmon gave me up
To your Resentment, tamely.—

Dunbar.
To exult
Ev'n o'er an Enemy oppress'd, and heap
Affliction on th'afflicted, is the Mark
And the mean Triumph of a dastard Soul.—
'Tis what Dunbar disdains.—Perhaps, I come
To pity, not rejoice at Stuart's Fate.—

Stuart.
To pity!—Torture! am I fall'n so low!—
Ha! Recreant!—move thy Pity!—Hell untie
These slavish Manacles, that I may scourge
This wretched Arrogant!—

Dunbar.
True Courage scorns
To vent her Prowess in a Storm of Words:
And to the Valiant, Actions speak alone:—
Then let my Deeds approve me.—I am come
To give thee instant Freedom.—

Stuart.
Mean'st thou Death?—
I shall be free then.—An apt Minister
Th'Usurper has ordain'd to perpetrate
His secret Murders.—

Dunbar.
Why wilt thou belye
Thy own Intelligence?—Thou know'st, my Sword
Was ne'er accustom'd to the Bravo's Stab;
Nor the Designs of Him so falsely stil'd
Usurper, ever sully'd with a Stain
Of Cruelty or Guile.—My Purpose is,
To knock thy Fetters off, conduct thee safe
Without the City-Confines, and restore thee
To Liberty and Athol.—

Stuart.
Fawning Coward!
Thou—thou restore me!—thou unbind my Chains!
Impossible!—Thy Fears that I may 'scape,
Like Vultures gnaw thee!—

Dunbar.
When the Battle joins,
Thou shalt be answer'd.—

Stuart.
When the Battle joins!—
—Away, Dissembler!—Sooner would'st thou beard
The Lion in his Rage, than fairly meet
My Valour on the Plain!

Dunbar.
Ha! who art thou,
That I should dread thy Threats?—By Heav'ns high Throne!
I'll meet thee in a Desart, to thy Teeth
Proclaim thy Treachery, and with my Sword
Explore thy faithless Heart!—Meanwhile, my Steps
Shall guide thee to the Field.

[Stuart is unchained, and presented with a Sword.
Stuart.
No!—Lightning blast me,
If I become thy Debtor, proud Dunbar!
Thy nauseous Benefits, shall not enslave
My freeborn Will.—Here, Captive as I am,
Thy lavish'd Obligation shall not buy
My Friendship!—No! nor stifle my Revenge!

Dunbar.
Alike unpleasant would it be to me,
To court thy Love or deprecate thy Hate:—
What I have proffer'd, other Motives urg'd.—
The Gift is Eleonora's.—

Stuart.
Sacred Powers!
Let me not understand thee!—Thou hast rous'd
My Soul's full Fury!—In the Blood that warms
Thine Heart, Perfidious, I will slake mine Ire!

Dunbar.
In all my Conduct, insolent of Heart!
What hast thou mark'd so abject and so mean,
Thy thy foul Tongue its Licence thus avows?
To boundless Passion subject, as thyself,
Wild Tumult oft my Reason overwhelms!—
Then tempt me not too far, lest blindfold Wrath
Transport my Soul, and headlong Ruin, crush
Thy Pride ev'n here!—

Stuart.
In this accursed Place
Let me be shackled—rivetted with Bolts,
'Till the Rust gnaw my Carcase to the Bone,
If my Heart throbs not for the Combat, here!—
Ev'n here, where thou art, Lord!—Ha! do'st thou shake?
By Heav'n, thy quiv'ring Lip and haggard Look
Confess pale Terror and Amaze!—

Dunbar.
—Away!—
Away, lewd Railer!—not thy sland'rous Throat
So fruitful of Invectives, shall provoke me
To wreak unworthy Vengeance on thee, safe
In thy Captivity:—But soon as War
Shall close th'encountring Hosts, I'll find thee out—
Assert my Claim to Eleonora's Love,
And tell thee, what thou art.

Stuart.
I burn—I rage!
My fell Revenge consumes me!—But no more—
Thou shalt not 'scape me—Goaded by my Wrongs,
I'll hunt thee thro' the various Scenes of Death!—
Thou shalt be found!—

Dunbar.
I triumph in that Hope.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VIII.

Changes.
King, Queen, attended.
King.
Couragious Angus shall not be o'erpower'd—
Myself will bring him Aid.—

Queen.
Alas! my Prince!

King.
What means the gentle Part'ner of my Heart?
Dismiss thy Fears.—This Day will dissipate
The Cause of thy Dismay.—Ev'n now, I go
To pluck the Wreath of Victory, and lay
Fresh Laurels in thy Lap.

Queen.
Ah! why let in
A Train of harpy Sorrows to my Breast!—
—Ah! why in your own precious Life, expose
Your Kingdom's Safety, and your Consort's Peace!
—Let me restrain you from the Field to Day.—
There is no Fame—no Glory to be won
From a Revolter's Brow.—

King.
The Public-weal
Commands to arm—Dishonour taint my Name,
When I reject the Call!—

Queen.
Ill-omen'd Call!
That like the Raven's Croak, invades my Quiet!
O! would to Heaven, our Minutes smoothly roll'd
In humble Solitude, with meek-ey'd Peace!
Remote from Royalty, and all the Cares
That brood around the Throne!—

King.
No, let us scorn
Unfeeling Ease, and private Bliss forego,
When public Misery implores our Aid.—
What Dignity of Transport feels the Prince,
Who, from the Fangs of fierce oppressive Power,
A People rescues?

Queen.
What a dreadful Host
Of Dangers 'circle him!

King.
Disease confers
The Stamp of Value upon Health; and Glory
Is the fair Child of Peril.—Thou thyself
My Conduct wilt applaud, soon as thy Mind
Its native Calm regains, and Reason sways
Uncheck'd by Fear.—Secure 'till my Return
Remain within, and ev'ry Thought indulge
Foreboding my Success.—

Queen.
Adieu—Adieu!
Heav'n crown your Valour with a happy Wreath.
[Exit Queen.

King
, to an Attendant.
Swift, hie thee to Dunbar, and bid him lead
The chosen Citizens—

Enter Ramsay.

SCENE IX.

King attended, Ramsay.
Ramsay.
O fatal Chance!
The Traitor Grime, with a selected Band,
(While Angus, press'd on every Side, sustains
Th'unequal Fight) a secret Path pursu'd
Around the Hills, and pouring all at once,
Surpriz'd the eastern Gate!—the Citizens
With Consternation smote, before his Arms
In Rout disorder'd fly!—

King.
Ha! then the Wheel
Of Fate full Circle rolls to crush me down!
Nor leaves one Pause for Conduct!—Yet I'll bear
My Fortunes like a King—Haste and collect
The scattered Parties—Let us not submit
'Ere yet subdu'd—To Arms.

[Drawing.
Ramsay.
Alas my Prince!
The Convent is beset—Hark! while we speak
The Gates are burst—Behold—

King.
We must prevent
The Pangs of ling'ring Misery, and fall
With Honour, as we lived—

SCENE X.

King attended, Ramsay. Grime with Followers bursting in.
King.
What bold Contempt
Of Majesty, thus rudely dares intrude
Into my private Scenes?

Grime.
The Hour is fled,
That saw thy wanton Tyranny impose
The galling Yoke—Yes, I am come to wrest
The prostituted Sceptre from thy Hand,
And drag thee fetter'd to the royal Throne
Of Walter, whom I serve.

King.
Outragious Wretch!
Grown old in Treachery! whose Soul untam'd,
No Mercy softens, and no Laws restrain!
Thy Life thrice forfeited, my Pity thrice
From Justice hath redeem'd; yet art thou found
Still turbulent—a rugged Rebel still,
Unaw'd, and unreclaim'd!—

Grime.
That I yet breathe
This ambient Air, and tread this Earth at will,
Not to thy Mercy but thy Dread I owe.—
Wrong'd as I was—my old Possessions reft
By thy rapacious Power, my Limbs enchain'd
Within a loathsom Dungeon, and my Name
Thy loud Reproach thro' all the groaning Land;
Thou durst not shed my Blood!—the purple Stream
Had swell'd—a Tide of Vengeance! and o'erwhelm'd
The proud Oppressor.—

King.
Traitor to thy Prince,
And Foe perverse to Truth!—how full thy Crimes,
Thy Doom how just—my Pardon how humane,
Thy conscious Malice knows—But let me not
Degrade my Name, and vindicate to thee
The Justice of my Reign.

Grime.
Vain were th'Attempt
With Artifice of Words, to sooth my Rage,
More deaf to Mercy, than the famish'd Wolf
That tears the bleating Kid!—My starv'd Revenge
Thy Blood alone can satiate!—Yield thee then:
Or sink beneath mine Arm.

King.
Heav'n shall not see
A Deed so abject vilify my Name—
While yet I wield this Sword, and the warm Blood
Still streams within my Veins; my Courage soars
Superior to a Ruffian's Threats.—

Grime.
Fall on,
And hew them Piece-meal.

[King, Ramsay, and Attendants drive off Grime and his Followers; but are afterwards overpowered and disarmed.
Grime.
Wilt thou yet maintain
Thy Dignity of Words?—Where are thy Slaves,
Thy Subjects, Guards and Thunder of thy Throne,
Reduc'd Usurper?—Guard these Captives hence.

[Exeunt King, Ramsay, &c. guarded.

SCENE XI.

Enter a Soldier to Grime.
Soldier.
A Troop of Horsemen have possessed the Gate
By which we gain'd the City.—

Grime.
Blast them Hell!
We must retreat another Way, and leave
Our Aim unfinish'd!—Our victorious Swords
At least shall guard the Treasure they have won.
When the fierce Parent-Lion bites our Chain,
His Whelps forlorn, an easy Prey remain.