Nay, be not terrified-it does me good 530 da Tokok upon you. That either e'er existed is my shame: 555 "Twas a dull spark-a most unnatural fire O. (interrupting). In a peasant's That died the moment the air breathed dress Nay, I dare not speak ; He is a man, if it should come to his I love her, though I dare not call her daughter. upon it. -These fools of feeling are mere birds of winter That haunt some barren island of the north, Where, if a famishing man stretch forth his hand, 560 They think it is to feed them. I have left him To solitary meditation ;-now Ove. Lord Clifford-did you see him Of truth, enough to dazzle and to blind, And he is mine for ever-here he comes. talk with Herbert? B. Yes, to my sorrow-under the great oak At Herbert's door-and when he stood beside The blind Man-at the silent Girl he looked 540 A holier name; and, under such a mask, Looked at from every point of fear or months gone, At midnight, I betook me to the Churchyard: Daty, or love-involve, I feel, my ruin. 550 The moon shone clear, the air was still, so still 575 The trees were silent as the graves beneath them. Long did I watch, and saw her pacing round Upon the self-same spot, still round and The verminous brood, and cherish what they spare While feeding on their bodies. Would The wholesome ministry of pain and evi that Idonea Becomes at last weak and contemptible. Were present, to the end that we might Your generous qualities have won du Here justice has indeed a field of triumph. If I could think one weak or partia Mar. Let us begone and bring her feeling Osw. You will forgive me Mar. 63 If I ever knew My heart, could penetrate its inmos core, Osw. You will be firm: but though we "Tis at this moment.-Oswald, I hav That oft have checked their fury at your And where's the triumph if the delegate bidding. Must fall in the execution of his office? 640 'Mid the deep holds of Solway's mossy The deed is done-if you will have it so Here where we stand-that tribe of vul waste, Your single virtue has transformed a Band 610 gar wretches (You saw them gathering for the festival) In such sad service; and he parted with And it was you, dear Lady! We joined our tales of wretchedness together, And begged our daily bread from door to door. I talk familiarly to you, sweet Lady! Idon. 695 Old Pil. It seems but yesterday That a fierce storm o'ertook us, worn with travel, Will be rejoiced to greet you. In a deep wood remote from any town. Old Pil. one We sate us down. The sky grew dark and darker: I struck my flint, and built up a small fire With rotten boughs and leaves, such as the winds Would drive those Scottish Rovers t their dens 705 If once they blew a horn this side th Tweed. 73 Mar. I think I see a second range c Towers; Of many autumns in the cave had piled. Meanwhile the storm fell heavy on the woods; Our little fire sent forth a cheering This castle has another Area-come, O. As well indeed it might. The fittest place? And this you deem I'll answer for it that our four-legged The wind should pipe a little, while we This mortal stupor which is creeping over stand me, Cooling our heels in this way!-I'll begin What do they mean? were this my single And count the stars. body Mur. (still listening). That dog of his, Opposed to armies, not a nerve would Could not come after us-he must have you are sure, perished; 755 tremble: Why do I tremble now?-Is not the depth 780 The torrent would have dashed an oak to Of this Man's crimes beyond the reach of splinters. thought? I said you did not like his looks- And yet, in plumbing the abyss for that he He has a tender heart! [OSWALD offers to go down into the dungeon. Mar. How now, what mean you? judgment, But there's a Providence for them who walk Truly, I was going In helplessness, when innocence is with To waken our stray Baron. Were there them. At this audacious blasphemy, I thought the air. |