INTRODUCTION.

THESE few scenes had the honour to be included in a Miscellany, published in the year 1823, by Mrs. Joanna Baillie, and are here reprinted, to unite them with the trifles of the same kind which owe their birth to the Author. The singular history of the Cross and Law of Clan MacDuff is given, at length enough to satisfy the keenest antiquary, in The Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border. It is here only necessary to state, that the Cross was a place of refuge to any person related to MacDuff, within the ninth degree, who, having committed homicide in sudden quarrel, should reach this place, prove his descent from the Thane of Fife, and pay a certain penalty.

The shaft of the Cross was destroyed at the Reformation. The huge block of stone which served for its pedestal is still in existence near the town of Newburgh, on a kind of pass which commands the county of Fife to the southward, and to the north, the windings of the magnificent Tay and fertile country of Angus-shire. The Cross bore an inscription, which is transmitted to us in an unintelligible form by Sir Robert Sibbald.

Placed on the summit of this mountain-pass,
Commanding prospect wide o'er field and fell,
And peopled village and extended moorland,
And the wide ocean and majestic Tay,
To the far distant Grampians. Do not deem it
A loosened portion of the neighbouring rock,
Detach'd by storm and thunder,-twas the
pedestal

On which, in ancient times, a Cross was
rear'd,
Carved o'er with words which foil'd philolo-
gists;

And the events it did commemorate
Were dark, remote, and undistinguishable,
As were the mystic characters it bore.
But. mark,-a wizard, born on Avon's bank,
Tuned but his harp to this wild northern
theme,

And, lo! the scene is hallow'd.

pass,

None shall

Now, or in after days, beside that stone, But he shall have strange visions; thoughts and words,

That shake, or rouse, or thrill the human heart,

Shall rush upon his memory when he hears The spirit-stirring name of this rude symbol;Oblivious ages, at that simple spell,

Shall render back their terrors with their woes, Alas! and with their crimes-and the proud phantoms

Shall move with step familiar to his eye, And accents which, once heard, the car forgets not,

Though ne'er again to list them. Siddas,

thine,

Thou matchless Siddons! thrill upon our ear; And on our eye thy lofty Brother's form Rises as Scotland's monarch.-But, to thee, Joanna, why to thee speak of such visions? Thine own wild wand can raise them.

Yet since thou wilt an idle tale of mine, Take one which scarcely is of worth enough To give or to withhold. -Our time creeps vi, Fancy grows colder as the silvery hair Tells the advancing winter of our life. But if it be of worth enough to please, That worth it owes to her who set the task: If otherwise, the fault rests with the Auth

-0SCENE I.

The summit of a Rocky Pess near to Norbergh, about two miles from the ancient Abbey of Lies dores, in Fife. In the centre is MacDe's Coats, an antique Monument; and, at a small distant, on one side, a Chapel, with a Laap burning,

safe

I heard their tread when kneeling in the chapel.

WAL. (looking to a distance.) My thoughts have rapt me more than thy devotion, Else had I heard the tread of distant horses Farther than thou couldst hear the sacring bell;

But now in truth they come: flight and pursuit

Are sights I've been long strange to.

NIN. See how they gallop down the opposing hill!

Yon grey steed bounding down the headlong path,

As on the level meadow; while the black,
Urged by the rider with his naked sword,
Stoops on his prey, as I have seen the falcon
Dashing upon the heron.-Thou dost frown
And clench thy hand, as if it grasp'd a weapon?
WAL. 'Tis but for shame to see a man fly
thus

While only one pursues him. Coward, turn!-
Turn thee, I say! thou art as stout as he,
And well may'st match thy single sword with
his-

thee,

Yet fear to turn his front against a foe!-
I am ashamed to look on them.

NIN. Yet look again; they quit their horses

now,

Unfit for the rough path: the fugitive Keeps the advantage still.-They strain towards us.

WAL. I'll not believe that ever the bold Thane

Rear'd up his Cross to be a sanctuary To the base coward, who shunn'd an equal combat.

How's this?--that look-that mien-mine eyes grow dizzy!-

NIN. He comes!-thou art a novice on this watch,

Brother, I'll take the word and speak to him. Pluck down thy cowl; know, that we spiritual champions

Have honour to maintain, and must not seem To quail before the laity.

[WALDHAVE lets down his cowl, and steps back.

To sheath thy sword, and stir no contest here. LIN. One charm I'll try first,

To lure the craven from the enchanted circle
Which he hath harbour'd in.-Hear you, De
Berkeley,

This is my brother's sword--the hand it arms
Is weapon'd to avenge a brother's death:-
If thou hast heart to step a furlong off,
And change three blows,-even for so short a
space

As these good men may say an ave-marie,—
So, Heaven be good to me! I will forgive thee
Thy deed and all its consequences.

BEP. Were not my right hand fetter'd by the thought

That slaying thee were but a double guilt
In which to steep my soul, no bridegroom ever
Stepp'd forth to trip a measure with his bride
More joyfully than I, young man, would rush
To meet thy challenge.

LIN. He quails, and shuns to look upon my weapon,

Yet boasts himself a Berkeley!

BER. Lindesay, and if there were no decper

cause

For shunning thee than terror of thy weapon, That rock-hewn Cross as soon should start and stir,

Because a shepherd-boy blew horn beneath it, As I for brag of thine.

NIN. I charge you both, and in the name of Heaven,

Breathe no defiance on this sacred spot, Where Christian men must bear them peacefully,

On pain of the Church thunders. Calmly tell Your cause of difference; and, Lord Lindesay, |

thou

Be first to speak them.

LIN. Ask the blue welkin-ask the silver Tay,

The northern Grampians-all things know my wrongs;

But ask not me to tell them, while the villain, Who wrought them, stands and listens with a smile.

NIN. It is said

Since you refer us thus to general fame-
That Berkeley slew thy brother, the Lord
Louis,

In his own halls at Edzell

LIN. Ay, in his halls

In his own halls, good father, that's the word. In his own halls he slew him, while the wine Pass'd on the board between! The gallant Thane,

Who wreak'd Macbeth's inhospitable murder, Rear'd not yon Cross to sanction deeds like these.

BER. Thou say'st I came a guest!-I came a victim,

A destined victim, train'd on to the doom
His frantic jealousy prepared for me.
He fix'd a quarrel on me, and we fought.
Can I forget the form that came between us,
And perish'd by his sword? "Twas then I
fought

For vengeance, -until then I guarded life,
But then I sought to take it, and prevail'd.
LIN. Wretch! thou didst first dishonour to
thy victim,

And then didst slay him!

BER. There is a busy fiend tugs at my heart,
But I will struggle with it!-Youthful knight,
My heart is sick of war, my hand of slaughter;
I come not to my lordships, or my land,
But just to seek a spot in some cold cloister,
Which I may kneel on living, and, when dead,
Which may suffice to cover me.

Forgive me that I caused your brother's death;
And I forgive thee the injurious terms
With which thou taxest me.

LIN. Take worse and blacker.----Murderer, adulterer!

Art thou not moved yet?

BER.
Do not press me further.
The hunted stag, even when he seeks the
thicket,

Compell'd to stand at bay, grows dangerous!
Most true thy brother perish'd by my hand,
And if you term it murder-I must bear it.
Thus far my patience can; but if thou brand
The purity of yonder martyr'd saint,
Whom then my sword but poorly did avenge,
With one injurious word, come to the valley,
And I will show thee how it shall be answer'd!

NIN. This heat, Lord Berkeley, doth but ill accord

With thy late pious patience.

BER. Father, forgive, and let me stand excused

To Heaven and thee, if patience brooks no

more.

I loved this lady fondly--truly loved-
Loved her, and was beloved, ere yet her father
Conferr'd her on another. While she lived,
Each thought of her was to my soul as hallow'd
As those I send to heaven; and on her grave,
Her bloody, early grave, while this poor hand
Can hold a sword, shall no one cast a scorn.

LIN. Follow me. Thou shalt hear me call the adulteress

By her right name.-I'm glad there's yet a spur

Can rouse thy sluggard mettle.

BER. Make then obeisance to the blessed

penal fire,

(For sure not yet thy guilt is expiated!) Stern ghost of her destroyer!

WAL. (throws back his cowl.) He hears! ho

hears! Thy spell hath raised the dead. LIN. My brother! and alive!WAL. Alive, but yet, my Richard, dead to thee,

No tie of kindred binds me to the world;
All were renounced, when, with reviving life,
Came the desire to seek the sacred cloister.
Alas, in vain! for to that last retreat,
Like to a pack of bloodhounds in full chase,
My passion and my wrongs have follow'd me,
Wrath and remorse--and, to fill up the cry,
Thou hast brought vengeance hither.
LIN.

I but sought

To do the act and duty of a brother.
WAL. I ceased to be so when I left the
world:

But if he can forgive as I forgive,
God sends me here a brother in mine enemy,
To pray for me and with me. If thou canst,
De Berkeley, give thine hand.--
BER. (gives his hand.)
It is the will
Of Heaven, made manifest in thy preservation,
To inhibit further bloodshed; for De Berkeley,
The votary Maurice lays the title down.
Go to his halls, Lord Richard, where a maiden,
Kin to his blood, and daughter in affection,
Heirs his broad lands;- If thou canst love her,
Lindesay,

Woo her, and be successful.