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To thee I lift my voice ; to thee address
Enter Lord RANDOLPH.
Lady R. Silent, alas ! is he for whom I mourn : Childless, without memorial of his name, He only now in my remembrance lives. “ This fatal day stirs my time-settled sorrow, “ Troubles afresh the fountain of “ Lord R. When was it pure of sadness! These
black weeds “ Express the wonted colour of thy mind, “ For ever dark and dismal. Seven long years “ Are pass'd, since we were join'd by sacred ties : “ Clouds all the while have hung upon thy brow, “ Nor broke, nor parted by one gleam of joy: 39 Time, that wears out the trace of deepest'anguish, “ As the sea smooths the prints made in the sand," Has passid o'er thee in vain.
“ Lady R. If time to come “ Should prove as ineffectual, yet, my lord, Thou can'st not blame me. When our Scottish
youth “ Vy'd with each other for my luckless love, “ Oft I besought them, I implor'd them all " Not to assail me with my father's aid, “ Nor blend their better destiny with mine. “For melancholy had congeal'd my blood, “ And froze affection in my chilly breast. “ At last my Sire, rous'd-with the base attempt « To force me from him, which thou rend'red'st vain, “ To his own daughter bow'd his hoary head, Besought me to commiserate his
age, “ And vow'd he should not, could not die in peace, “Unless he saw me wedded, and secur'd “ From violence and outrage. Then, my lord ! “In my extreme distress I callid on thee,
60 “ Thee I bespake, profess'd my strong desire “ To lead a single, solitary life, " And begg’d thy Nobleness, not to demand “ Her for a wife whose heart was dead to love. “ How. thou persisted’st after this, thou know'st, 6 And must confess that am not unjust, “ Nor more to thee than to myself injurious.
“ Lord'R. That I confess; yet ever must regret “ The grief I cannot cure.” Would thou wert not Compos'd of grief and tenderness alone, “ But had'st a spark of other passions in thee, "Pride, anger, vanity, the strong desire
“ Of admiration, dear to woman-kind; « These might contend with, and allay thy grief, "As meeting tides and currents smooth our firth. “ Lady R. To such a cause the human mind oft
owes « Its transient calm, a calm I envy not.” Lord R. Sure thou art not the daughter of Sir Mal. colm:
80 Strong was his rage, eternal his resentment: For when thy brother fell, he smil'd to hear That Douglas' son in the same field was slain.
Lady R. Oh! rake not up the ashes of my fathers :
Lord R. Thy grief wrests to its purposes my
Lady R. Thou dost not think so : woeful as I am,
words, And every
I love thy merit, and esteein thy virtues.
Lord R. Straight to the camp,
Lady R. O, may adverse winds,
soldier of both hosts return In
peace and safety to his pleasant home!
Lady R. “War I detest: but war with foreign foes, “Whose manners, language, and whose looks are
strange, “ Is not so horrid, nor to ine so hateful, " As that which with our neighbours oft we wage. “ A river here, there an ideal line, “By fancy drawn, divide the sister kingdoms. « On each side dwells a people similar, " As twins are to each other ; valiant both; “ Both for their valour famous thro' the world. “Yet will they not unite their kindred arms, * And, if they must have war, wage distant war,
“ But with each other fight in cruel conflict.
139 “ And such the fruit of Scotch and English wars.
“Lord R. I'll hear no more: this melody would make “ A soldier drop his sword, and doff his arms, “Sit down and weep the conquests he has made ; “ Yea, (like a monk), sing rest and peace in heav'r " To souls of warriors in his battles slain." Lady, farewel : I leave thee not alone; Yonder comes one whose love makes duty light.
Lady R. So to lose my hours
Anna. To blame thee, lady, suits not with my states