 | The Earl of Douglas |  |
16
ACT II.
SCENE I.
Douglas-Castle.Douglas, Fleming.
Fleming
, (delivering a Letter)
A packet from the States—
Douglas.
Pray open it.
Fleming
, (reads)
My Lord of Douglas,
You have been accused of conniving at several
acts of oppression in your dependants, and of
protecting others who are obnoxious to the laws. But as these
complaints seemed to be founded on vague and uncertain reports,
the States have dismist them. It however gives them
just concern, that your illustrious house should lie under such
foul aspersions; and they earnestly desire your attendance in parliament,
as soon as the conveniency of your affairs will permit.
The publick disorders that too generally prevail, call aloud
for the assistance of every lover of his country; and the
States cannot doubt of my Lord of Douglas's readiness to join
in every measure for the publick good. That you may have no
room to distrust their good intentions, the States hereby engage
the publick faith for your absolute security, and promise to overlook
whatever may have been amiss in your conduct hitherto.
Signed in name, and by appointment of the Estates of Scotland,
by
Alexander Livingston Regent.
Thus far the States—
Douglas.
Methinks 'tis hard my friend,
At once to bear the envy of the great,
And the reproach of low malicious tongues.
I charge you on our friendship, speak the truth,
Has ever my protection been abus'd
17
To shelter ro [OMITTED] or stop the course of law?
Have any that [OMITTED] end on me been screen'd
From publick justice? Or have I indulg'd
The breach of social duty?
Fleming.
I aver,
The man that says it greatly injures truth,
And dares not shew his face to make it good.
Douglas.
At least, my heart acquits me of designs
To honour so repugnant. But 'tis strange
The authors of such false reports should dare
To shew their heads before th'assembled States
Where truth and justice ever should preside.
Fleming.
These false reports industriously are spread,
By whom, for what intent, I will not say.
Whatever grudge the ministers might owe
Your noble father, him they dread no more;
He would exert his antient right, and judge
Within his jurisdiction, be the cause
Such as to common royalties belong,
Or such as seem'd above a subject's sphere.
This gave offence—But since his death, my Lord,
No case hath happ'ned, which the meanest Baron
Has not an ample pow'r to have decided.
Douglas.
The ministers appear to be my friends;
Nor have they list'ned with a willing ear
To these injurious tales; they would not else
Have kindly broke a blade by malice forg'd
18
Fleming.
This favour, in the scale of justice said,
A down outweighs: they only did you right.
To me, their difference with my Lord your father—
Douglas.
That gave me pain, and had an ill effect.
I neither will condemn; tho' yet I own,
He seem'd to treat them with too much contempt.
Whate'er the men, the offices they hold,
From highest subjects claim a just respect.
Their families, compar'd with some, are new;
What then? In the impartial eye of reason,
The accidents of birth and fortune weigh not.
The man, who treading in the paths of virtue.
Can raise a name, or fortune to himself,
May look with just contempt on him, who boasts
His birth-right-titles, and his father's worth.
Fleming.
'Tis greatly said my Lord! a generous soul
Will never boast of what it owes to chance.
Perhaps my Lord on some occasions shew'd
Too warm resentment of the wrongs he bore;
Was he alone to blame? The world allows,
He knew the men, and judg'd of them aright.
Douglas.
Here let their quarrels rest. Should we consult
Our cousin Grame, before we write the Regent?
Fleming.
[OMITTED] compliment, which to his worth
[OMITTED] justly due.
19
Take care my friend,
The messenger be fitly entertain'd.
[Exit, Fleming.
Douglas
, solus.
Would I had been an humble cottager,
Below the eye of this malicious world!
Plenty, with liberal hand my board supplies,
And wide domains acknowledge me their Lord;
Meantime the noxious breath of envy blasts
The tender shoots, I vainly hop'd to raise
From honour's root—An honest fame hath charms
The stictest virtue needs not blush to court;
And he that coolly hears his fame arraign'd,
Must know himself a villain—
(going, meets Grame)
SCENE II.
Douglas, Grame.Douglas.
Cousin Grame,
You meet me opportunely on the way
To call upon you. Look at this (giving a letter)
and give
Your sentiments upon it, as a friend.
(a pause, while Grame reads the letter)
Grame.
I like it not, my Lord: the stile is good,
But I suspect the meaning is not fair.
Douglas.
What answer do you think we should return?
20
Your thanks, my Lord, for having done you right.
Douglas.
That compliment would hardly pass at Court.
Should we attend the meeting of the States?
Grame.
As matters stand, you'll give me leave to say,
I should not think it prudent: no my Lord,
The King's a child, the ministers who rule
Him and the State, the en'mies of your house.
Douglas.
I know you love them not. Your prejudice
Leads you to think amiss of all they do.
Grame.
My Lord, a long experience hath taught me,
To question the sincerity of him,
Who from an open enemy, assumes
The specious mask of friendship; and the more
If the transition's sudden and unlook'd for.
Douglas.
But why, my cousin, view them in that light?
If stricter union 'twixt us can promote
The publick good, soon may it come about.
Grame.
Perhaps, my Lord, they use the publick good,
But as a cloak to cover bad designs.
Did they indeed regard the common-weal,
Could their regards be local? Would they bear
Oppression, murder, ev'ry vice to reign
Without controul in one place, while in others,
The vague complaints of nameless wretches drew
Their whole attention? Is not this the case?
21
The dire effects of their unseemly discord?
To-day a proclamation strictly chargeth,
That none regard the orders of the Regent,
But ere to morrow's sun goes down, another
Flies in the face of that, and bids obey him.
To whom can men, in such a case apply
For justice and protection? If to either,
The other's faction takes a quick revenge,
And ruins those, before but half undone.
What heart but shudders at the barbarous acts
Committed by the western islanders?
Yet not a word of this in parliament—
Whole counties to the capital repair'd,
To lay their grievances before the States;
But all was hush when the assembly met,
Except Lord Douglas, not a soul accus'd.
I own, such partial dealings make me fear,
That ill designs are form'd against your house.
As yet, my Lord, you're young, and know not men:
It grieves my soul to think how few are honest!
The mind that's conscious of its own regard
To truth and justice, and hath never felt
The ill effects of perfidy in others,
Is ever apt to think too well of man,
Douglas,
Perhaps so cousin: nor is it strange if those
Imbitt'red by the villainy of some,
From thence, conclude too harshly of the whole,
Forgive me, cousin, if I cannot see
The matter in the light you take it up.
What have I done, that I should fear to meet
22
The publick faith? On this I rest secure.
Should I decline to go, they might conclude,
That consciousness of guilt had kept me back.
To-morrow we set out. Would you were able
To bear us company, that as in private,
In publick we might shew the just regard,
To age and virtue.
Grame.
(wiping his eyes
I have done my Lord-
Heav'n grant a prosperous issue to your journey!—
Forgive the weakness of a poor old man—
These eyes were dim ere yours had seen the light—
Soft was the scene when they beheld you first,
A smiling infant in the nurse's lap:
The good Lord Douglas took you in his arms,
Twice kist your rosy lips, then smiling said,
“Grame! love thy little cousin—and take care,
“If thou surviv'st me, to make up his loss.
“Thou know'st the dangerous course he has to steer,
“Upon the shelfy coast of human life—
“Point out the rocks, in pity to thy friend.”
I've done my duty, if my heart says true;
And can no more—my friend deserv'd a tear—
I thought this moisture dried, with age and grief,
But find it runs apace—a little longer,—
And age, and pain, and sorrow are no more!
Douglas.
My father! and my friend! the kind regard
Well, I shew, deserves, and has my grateful thanks;
[OMITTED] share we not way to these unkind suspicions,
[OMITTED] days hence, we'll laugh at them together.
23
[OMITTED] rant we may! for till we meet again,
An easy moment I can ne'er enjoy.
[Exit Grame.
SCENE III.
Douglas, Lord William.Lord William.
Methought I saw our cousin Grame go out,
With an unusual gloom upon his face.
Douglas.
I have a letter from the States, the answer
Which I intend, suits not with his opinion.
Lord William.
Sir Malcolm hath inform'd me of the letter,
Who greatly doubts, it does not mean you good.
Douglas.
To me 'tis strange, that men of sense and worth,
Should draw conclusions so remote, and doubt
The publick faith. I wish they had approv'd
My resolution; but cannot recede
From what my conscience tells me is my duty,
Because my friends fore-see some danger in it.
'Tis ours to do our duty; heav'n alone
Fore-knows the issue; and will ne'er forsake
The man whose views the laws of virtue bound.
It is resolv'd: to morrow we set out;
Two friends, and servants, only in our train.
Lord William.
I humbly think, my Lord, the number
24
Our cousin Grame's experience of the world
His knowledge of the men; his love to you,
Perplex me not a little. At least permit
An hundred horse to go; so small a train
Can never give offence.
Douglas.
Forgive me, cousin,
A smaller number, to the squinting eye
Of malice, would appear the sign of guilt.
I mean to shew the world, my views are just,
And that my deeds can bear the test of law.
No more a large retinue can impart
A dignity to man, than gaudy dress
Worth to his mind, or to his body health.
Lord William.
May I not hope the honour to attend you?
Douglas.
You know my just regard, but give me leave
To beg that you insist not in a suit,
I cannot grant. None of my house, or name,
On this occasion goes with me to court,
Except my brother. It will give me joy,
To see you there soon after; but till once
My character is clear'd, those vile reports
Prov'd false and groundless, I will ne'er assume
The state, which to my birth and house belongs.
Lord William.
[OMITTED] insist not; but shall follow soon,
[OMITTED] the pleasure. which your heart must
25
SCENE IV.
Lady Beatrix, Douglas, Lord William.Lady Beatrix.
My Lord, you have a letter from the States,
I come to give you joy. No more your fame
Shall vilely be traduc'd; as silver tried,
Your character must brighter shine; your foes
By truth's superior lustre dash'd must hide
Their dastard heads. The conduct of the States
Does honour to themselves, and right to you.
Douglas.
It does, my sister; yet our friends have drawn
Such strange conclusions—
Lady Beatrix.
Fleming seems to doubt
The honour of the States. For me, my Lord,
I cannot think so ill of human kind:
It is not come to that: however loose
The principles of some, the publick faith
Is sacred deem'd by all.
Douglas.
Your sentiments
And mine exactly correspond: to me
No ground of doubt appears: I would not live,
Suspected of the crimes, the busy world
26
Lady Beatrix.
'Tis your, my Lord,
To wipe such foul aspersions off your house;
'Tis yours, to drag those miscreants into light,
Who hid in darkness, shoot their poison'd shafts,
To wound your rising fame. But still my Lord,
Let prudence be your guide; weigh, coolly weigh,
Whate'er your more experienc'd friends have said.
Douglas.
Our cousin Grame and I have duly weigh'd
Their grounds of doubt: meantime I must dispatch
My answer to the States.
[Exit.
Lord William.
'Tis not in man
To 'scape the censure of a busy world:
But injur'd innocence, at last shall shine
Refulgent through the mist by envy rais'd.
[Exeunt.
| The Earl of Douglas | |