Has given him power to teach: and then for courage
And enterprise-what perils hath he shunned?
What obstacles hath he failed to overcome?

Answer these questions from our common knowledge,
And be at rest.

Wil.

Mar.

Oh, Sir!

Peace, my good Wilfred ;

Repair to Liddesdale, and tell the Band

I shall be with them in two days, at farthest.
Wil. May He whose eye is over all protect you!

[Exit.

Enter OSWALD (a bunch of plants in his hand).

Osw. This wood is rich in plants and curious simples. Mar. (looking at them.) The wild rose, and the poppy, and the nightshade:

Which is your favourite, Oswald ?

Osw.

That which, while it is

Strong to destroy, is also strong to heal-[Looking forward. Not yet in sight!-We'll saunter here awhile;

They cannot mount the hill, by us unseen.

Mar. (a letter in his hand.) It is no common thing when one like you

Performs these delicate services, and therefore

I feel myself much bounden to you, Oswald:

'Tis a strange letter this!-You saw her write it?

Osw. And saw the tears with which she blotted it.

Mar. And nothing less would satisfy him?
Osw.

For that another in his Child's affection

Should hold a place, as if 'twere robbery,
He seemed to quarrel with the very thought.
Besides, I know not what strange prejudice
Is rooted in his mind; this Band of ours,

No less;

Which you've collected for the noblest ends,
Along the confines of the Esk and Tweed
To guard the innocent-he calls us "Outlaws;"
And, for yourself, in plain terms he asserts
This garb was taken up that indolence

Might want no cover, and rapacity

Be better fed.

Mar.

Ne'er may I own the heart

That cannot feel for one, helpless as he is.

Osw. Thou know'st me for a Man not easily moved, Yet was I grievously provoked to think

Did not the Soldier tell thee that himself,

And others who survived the wreck, beheld

The Baron Herbert perish in the waves
Upon the coast of Cyprus?

Osw.

Yes, even so,

And I had heard the like before: in sooth
The tale of this his quondam Barony

Is cunningly devised; and, on the back

Of his forlorn appearance, could not fail
To make the proud and vain his tributaries,
And stir the pulse of lazy charity.

The seignories of Herbert are in Devon;

We, neighbours of the Esk and Tweed; 'tis much

The Arch-Impostor

Mar.

Treat him gently, Oswald;

Though I have never seen his face, methinks,

There cannot come a day when I shall cease

To love him. I remember, when a Boy

Of scarcely seven years' growth, beneath the Elm
That casts its shade over our village school,
'Twas my delight to sit and hear Idonea
Repeat her Father's terrible adventures,
Till all the band of play-mates wept together;
And that was the beginning of my love.
And, through all converse of our later years,
An image of this old Man still was present,
When I had been most happy.

If this be idly spoken.

Osw.

Two Travellers!

Pardon me

See, they come,

Enter IDONEA, leading HERBERT blind.

Idon. Dear Father, you sigh deeply; ever since
We left the willow shade by the brook-side,
Your natural breathing has been troubled.
Her.

You are too fearful; yet must I confess,
Our march of yesterday had better suited
A firmer step than mine.

Idon.

Nay,

That dismal Moor

In spite of all the larks that cheered our path,

I never can forgive it but how steadily

You paced along, when the bewildering moonlight
Mocked me with many a strange fantastic shape !—
I thought the Convent never would appear;

It seemed to move away from us and yet,

That you are thus the fault is mine; for the air
Was soft and warm, no dew lay on the grass,
And midway on the waste ere night had fallen
I spied a Covert walled and roofed with sods-
A miniature; belike some Shepherd-boy,
Who might have found a nothing-doing hour
Heavier than work, raised it: within that hut
We might have made a kindly bed of heath,
And thankfully there rested side by side
Wrapped in our cloaks, and, with recruited strength,
Have hailed the morning sun. But cheerily, Father,-
That staff of yours, I could almost have heart
To fling't away from you: you make no use
Of me, or of my strength;-come, let me feel
That you do press upon me.

You are quite exhausted.

On this green bank.

There-indeed

Let us rest awhile

[He sits down.

Her. (after some time). Idonea, you are silent,

And I divine the cause.

Idon.

Do not reproach me:

I pondered patiently your wish and will

When I gave way to your request; and now,
When I behold the ruins of that face,

Those eyeballs dark-dark beyond hope of light,
And think that they were blasted for my sake,
The name of Marmaduke is blown away:
Father, I would not change that sacred feeling
For all this world can give.

Her.

Nay, be composed:

Few minutes gone a faintness overspread

My frame, and I bethought me of two things

I ne'er had heart to separate—my grave,
And thee, my Child!

Idon.

Believe me, honoured Sire!

'Tis weariness that breeds these gloomy fancies,
And you mistake the cause: you hear the woods
Resound the music; could you see the sun,
And look upon the present face of Nature-

Her. I comprehend thee-I should be as cheerful
As if we two were twins; two songsters bred
In the same nest, my spring-time one with thine.
My fancies, fancies if they be, are such

As come, dear Child! from a far deeper source
Than bodily weariness. While here we sit
I feel my strength returning.—The bequest
Of thy kind Patroness, which to receive
We have thus far adventured, will suffice
To save thee from the extreme of penury;
But when thy Father must lie down and die,
How wilt thou stand alone?

Idon.

Is he not valiant?

Her.

Is he not strong?

Am I then so soon

Forgotten? have my warnings passed so quickly
Out of thy mind? My dear, my only, Child:

Thou wouldst be leaning on a broken reed—

This Marmaduke

Idon.

O could you hear his voice:

Alas! you do not know him. He is one

(I wot not what ill tongue has wronged him with you) All gentleness and love. His face bespeaks

A deep and simple meekness: and that Soul,
Which with the motion of a virtuous act
Flashes a look of terror upon guilt,

Is, after conflict, quiet as the ocean,

By a miraculous finger, stilled at once.
Her. Unhappy woman!

Idon.

Nay, it was my duty