And this you deem

He is growing pitiful.

Mar.
The fittest place?

Osw. (aside.)

Mar. (listening.) What an odd moaning that

Osw.

is!

Mighty odd

The wind should pipe a little, while we stand
Cooling our heels in this way!— I'll begin
And count the stars.

Mar. (still listening.) That dog of his, you are sure, Could not come after us,- he must have perished; The torrent would have dashed an oak to splinters. You said you did not like his looks, that he Would trouble us; if he were here again,

I swear the sight of him would quail me more
Than twenty armies.

Osw.

Mar.

How?

The old blind man,

When you had told him the mischance, was troubled

Even to the shedding of some natural tears

Into the torrent over which he hung,

Listening in vain.

Osw.

He has a tender heart!

[OSWALD offers to go down into the dungeon. Mar. How now, what mean you ?

Osw. Truly, I was going To waken our stray Baron. Were there not A farm or dwelling-house within five leagues, We should deserve to wear a cap and bells, Three good round years, for playing the fool here In such a night as this.

Three of us, we should keep each other warm: I'll answer for it that our four-legged friend Shall not disturb us; further I'll not engage; Come, come, for manhood's sake!

Mar. These drowsy shiverings, This mortal stupor which is creeping over me, What do they mean? Were this my single body Opposed to armies, not a nerve would tremble: Why do I tremble now? - Is not the depth

Of this man's crimes beyond the reach of thought? And yet, in plumbing the abyss for judgment, Something I strike upon which turns my mind Back on herself, I think, again,

my breast Concentres all the terrors of the Universe:

I look at him and tremble like a child.

Osw. Is it possible?

Mar.

One thing you noticed not: Just as we left the glen a clap of thunder

Burst on the mountains, with hell-rousing force.
This is a time, said he, when guilt may shudder;
But there's a Providence for them who walk
In helplessness, when innocence is with them.
At this audacious blasphemy, I thought
The spirit of vengeance seemed to ride the air.
Osw. Why are you not the man you were that

moment?

[He draws MARMADUKE to the dungeon.

Mar. You say he was asleep,-look at this arm. And tell me if 't is fit for such a work.

Her. (at the mouth of the dungeon.) Give me your hand; where are you, Friends? and tell me

How goes the night.

Mar.

"T is hard to measure time,

In such a weary night, and such a place.

Her. I do not hear the voice of my friend Oswald.

Mar. A minute past, he went to fetch a draught

Of water from the torrent. 'T is, you

A cheerless beverage.

Her.

say,

How good it was in you

To stay behind! — Hearing at first no answer,
I was alarmed.

Mar.

No wonder; this is a place That well may put some fears into your heart.

Her. Why so? a roofless rock had been a com

fort,

Storm-beaten and bewildered as we were;

And in a night like this, to lend your cloaks

To make a bed for me!.

When she is told of it.

Mar.

Is very dear to you.

Her.

My Girl will weep

This daughter of yours

Oh! but you are young;

Over your head twice twenty years must roll, With all their natural weight of sorrow and pain, Ere can be known to you how much a father May love his child.

Mar.

Thank you, old man,

for this! [Aside.

Her. Fallen am I, and worn out, a useless man ;

Kindly have you protected me, to-night,

And no return have I to make but prayers;
May you in age be blest with such a daughter!-
When from the Holy Land I had returned
Sightless, and from my heritage was driven,
A wretched outcast But this strain of thought
Would lead me to talk fondly.

Mar.

Do not fear;

Your words are precious to my ears; go on.

Her. You will forgive me, but my heart runs

over.

When my old Leader slipped into the flood
And perished, what a piercing outcry you
Sent after him. I have loved you ever since.
where are we?

You start,

Mar.

The cold blast struck me.

Her.

Oh, there is no danger;

"T was a foolish question.

Mar. But when you were an outcast? - Heaven

is just;

Your piety would not miss its due reward;
The little orphan then would be your succor,
And do good service, though she knew it not.
Her. I turned me from the dwellings of my
fathers,

Where none but those who trampled on my rights
Seemed to remember me. To the wide world

I bore her, in my arms; her looks won pity;
She was my raven in the wilderness,

And brought me food. Have I not cause to love her?

Mar. Yes.

Her. More than ever parent loved a child! Mar. Yes, yes.

Her.

I will not murmur, merciful God! I will not murmur; blasted as I have been, Thou hast left me ears to hear my daughter's voice, And arms to fold her to my heart. Submissively Thee I adore, and find my rest in faith.

Osw. Herbert!

Enter Oswald.

- confusion! (aside.) Here it [Presents the Horn.

is, my Friend,

A charming beverage for you to carouse,

This bitter night.

Her.

Ha! Oswald! ten bright crosses

I would have given, not many minutes gone,

To have heard your voice.