Think of the curse whieh waits on broken oaths; A knight is bound by more than vulgar ties, Edric. Is soon expected Douglas. Forbid it heaven! For with him comes Edric. Ah! who? Douglas. Peace, peace, For see Elwina's here. Retire, my Edrie; When next we meet thou shalt know all. Farewel. [Exit EDRIC. Now to conceal with care my bosom's anguish, And let her beauty chase away my sorrows! Yes, I wou'd meet her with a face of smilesBut 'twill not be. Enter ELWINA. Elwina. Alas, 'tis ever thus! Thus ever clouded is his gloomy brow. [Aside. Douglas. I were too blest, Elwina, cou'd I hope You met me here by choice, or that your bosom Shar'd the warm transports mine must ever feel At your approach. Elwina. My lord, if I intrude, The cause which brings me claims your gentle par don. I fear you are not well, and come, unbidden, Except by faithful duty, to inquire, If haply in my power, my little power, Douglas. What unwonted goodness! The The heart demands a heart; nor will be paid E'en now, E'en now, Elwina, The glistening tear stands trembling in your eyes, Elwina. My lord, I hop'd the thousand daily proofs Of my obedience Douglas. Death to all my hopes! Heart-rending word! obedience! what's obedience? And trusts the passion it inspires and feels.- To feed a hopeless flame.-But hear, Elwina, Elwina. Say, my lord, For your own lips shall vindicate my fame, As fearless innocence shou'd ever live? I call attesting angels to be witness, My conduct, or my heart, they've ought discern'd Douglas. This vindication e'er you were accus'd, Is modest, lowly, meek, and unassuming ; Douglas. I did not mean to chide! But think, O think, What pangs must rend this fearful, doating heart, To fear, distracting thought, to feel you hate me! Elwina. What if the slender thread by which I hold This poor precarious being soon must break; Douglas. Yes, madam, there is one, one man ador'd, For whom your sighs will heave, your tears will flow, For For whom this hated world will still be dear, Elwina. Hold, hold, my lord, What may this mean? Douglas. Ah! I have gone too far. What have I said?--Your father, sure, your father, The good Lord Raby may at least expect One tender sigh. Elwina. Alas, my lord, I thought The harmless incense of a daughter's sighs Douglas. 'Tis true; yet Raby's self is less belov'd Since he bestow'd his daughter's hand on Douglas: That was a crime the dutiful Elwina Can never pardon; and believe me, madam, To ties which make you wretched. Elwina. Ah! how's this? [Exit DOUGLAS. Tho' I have ever found him fierce and rash, Till now he never ventur'd to accuse me. "For whom your tears will flow:"-these were his words And then the wretched subterfuge of Raby How poor th' evasion!-But my Birtha comes. Enter BIRTHA. Birtha. Crossing the portico I met Lord Douglas, Disorder'd were his looks, his eyes shot fire; He call'd upon your name with such distraction, I fear'd some sudden evil had befall'n you. Elwina. Not sudden; no; long has the storm been gathering, Which threatens speedily to burst in ruin On this devoted head. Birtha. I ne'er beheld Your gentle soul so ruffled, yet I've mark'd you, An hour, a moment in Elwina's life, When her full heart so long'd to ease its load, If my presumptuous lips arraign a father! Elwina. My mis'ry, not my crime. Long since the battle 'twixt the rival houses One summer's morn my father chas'd the deer Between the Earls? Elwina. The same. During the chase, Some of my father's knights received an insult From the Lord Percy's herdsmen, churlish foresters, Unworthy of the gentle blood they serv'd. My father, proud and jealous of his honour, (Thou know'st the fiery temper of our Barons,) Swore that Northumberland had been concern'd In this rude outrage, nor wou'd hear of peace Or |