University of Virginia Library

SCENE III.

An apartment, the same as in the first scene of the second act.
Judge.
The thoughtful mind, reflecting on the past,
Sees in the various issue of events,
A latent justice working straight from Heaven.—
Whate'er affects us, sleeping or awake,
Compels some current in the sea of thought,
That moves us on to action.—By what chance
Could this mysterious supposition rise,
After the lapse of nineteen silent years?

[Enter Isbel.]
Isb.
Justice, my Lord. In the Almighty name
Of him that heard the blood of Abel cry,
I make the dread demand.—

Jud.
Be calm, 'tis granted,
The writ is issued, and without delay
The trial shall proceed. But, Isbel, think,
There is no witness, proof, or evidence.

Isb.
Ha! and has he who orders all things right,
Born witness to me nineteen times in vain?
—The voice and testimony of mankind,
With time, and place, and circumstances clear,
Could not so prove the bloody Glanville's guilt,
As my great demonstration.

Jud.
What is it?
What nineteen times of witness do you speak?

Isb.
The anniversaries of that dire day
On which my husband was so foully murder'd.

Jud.
Alas, poor wretch! What is that evidence?

Isb.
Give me the hearing, calmly, as befits
Your high vice-gerency, and justly due
To my distress and widowhood forlorn.
I am, my Lord, an old woe-stricken hag,
Whose grey hairs flutter in the winter's wind:
And I am poor—a mendicant, my Lord,
In the obscenest rags of poverty.
Shrunk age, lean want, and slow-consuming sorrow,
Have made me all so hideous to the sight,
That the spare alms which but provoke my need,
Are less in piteous charity bestow'd,
Than in the sad surprisal to behold,
A thing so miserable human still.
I have outliv'd compassion, and to fee
The advocacy that my state requires,
Have only these salt tears. But yet, my Lord,
I claim the rites due to the race of man.
The mighty maker of all things that are,
Judges, and kings, and laws, made me himself:
Yea, from as old a date as he contriv'd
The glory of the sun, he destin'd me,
And I demand my just equalities.

Jud.
Alas, good Isbel, this is ravel'd speech.
Thou art assur'd the trial shall proceed.

Isb.
Who is the judge?

Jud.
I am.

Isb.
My Lord!

Jud.
I am!
Why shak'st thou so thy head, and wav'st thy hand?

Isb.
My Lord, my Lord, deal equally with both.
This is a cause in which dread Providence
Appears a witness. If you are the judge,
Why am I question'd here,—in secret here?

Jud.
She has rebuk'd me well.—You may withdraw,
Till the appointed time of trial come.

[Exeunt.