Of venal statesmen, shall recall my name
To witness that they want not an example,
And plead my guilt to sanctify their own.
Amidst the herd of mercenary slaves

That haunt your court, could none be found but Warwick
To be the shameless herald of a lie?

K. Edw. And wouldst thou turn the vile reproach on me? If I have broke my faith, and stain'd the name Of England, thank thy own pernicious counsels That urg'd me to it, and extorted from me A cold consent to what my heart abhorr❜d.

War. I've been abus'd, insulted, and betray'd; My injur'd honour cries aloud for vengeance; Her wounds will never close!

K. Edw. These gusts of passion

Will but inflame them; if I have been right
Inform'd, my lord, besides these dang❜rous scars
Of bleeding honour, you have other wounds
As deep, though not so fatal; such, perhaps,
As none but fair Elizabeth can cure.

War. Elizabeth!

K. Edw. Nay, start not, I have cause
To wonder most: I little thought, indeed,
When Warwick told me I might learn to love,
He was, himself, so able to instruct me:
But I've discover'd all.

War. And so have I;

Too well I know thy breach of friendship there;
Thy fruitless, base endeavours to supplant me.

K. Edw. I scorn it, sir; Elizabeth hath charms,
And I have equal right with you t' admire them:
Nor see I aught so godlike in the form,

So all-commanding in the name of Warwick,
That he alone should revel in the charms
Of beauty, and monopolize perfection.
I knew not of your love.

War. By heav'n! 'tis false;

You knew it all, and meanly took occasion,
Whilst I was busied in the noble office
Your grace thought fit to honour me withal,
To tamper with a weak, unguarded woman,
To bribe her passions high, and basely steal

A treasure which your kingdom could not purchase.
K. Edw. How know you that? But be it as it may,

I had a right, nor will I tamely yield

My claim to happiness, the privilege

To choose the partner of my throne and bed:

It is a branch of my prerogative.

War. Prerogative! what's that? the boast of tyrants: A borrow'd jewel, glitt'ring in the crown

With specious lustre, lent but to betray;
You had it, sir, and hold it from the people.

K. Edw. And therefore do I prize it; I would guard
Their liberties, and they shall strengthen mine:
But when proud faction and her rebel crew
Insult their sov'reign, trample on his laws,
And bid defiance to his pow'r, the people,
In justice to themselves, will then defend
His cause, and vindicate the rights they gave.

War. Go to your darling people, then; for soon,
If I mistake not, 'twill be needful; try

Their boasted zeal, and see if one of them
Will dare to lift his arm up in your cause,
If I forbid them.

K. Edw. Is it so, my lord?

Then mark my words: I've been your slave too long,
And you have rul'd me with a rod of iron;

But henceforth know, proud peer, I am thy master,
And will be so: the king who delegates
His pow'r to others' hands but ill deserves
The crown he wears.

War. Look well, then, to your own;

It sits but loosely on your head; for know,
The man who injur'd Warwick never pass'd
Unpunish'd yet.

K. Edw. Nor he who threaten'd Edward:
You may repent it, sir. My guards, there; seize
This traitor and convey him to the Tower!
There let him learn obedience.

Enter GUARDS.

War. Slaves, stand off;

If I must yield my sword, I'll give it him
Whom it so long has serv'd; there's not a part
In this old faithful steel that is not stain'd
With English blood in grateful Edward's cause.
Give me my chains, they are the bands of friendship,
Of a king's friendship; for his sake, awhile,
I'll wear them.

K. Edw. Hence: away with him.

War. 'Tis well:

Exert your pow'r, it may not last you long;

For know, though Edward may forget his friend,

That England will not.

Now, sir, I attend you.

[Exit the KING, R.

[Exeunt WARWICK and GUARDS, L.

13.-NORVAL AND GLENALVON.

THE REV. JOHN HOME.

John Home was born in Roxburghshire in 1724. He was educated for the Church, but in the rebellion of 1745, entered the Royal army, and was taken

prisoner at the battle of Falkirk. He contrived to escape, and was ordained minister of Athelstaneford, in East Lothian, 1750. His tragedy of "Douglas" was performed with great success in Edinburgh; but the fact of a clergyman writing a play at all so offended the presbytery, that he was compelled to resign his living. He died, aged 85, 1808.]

Glenalvon. His port I love: he's in a proper mood
To chide the thunder, if at him it roar'd.
Has Norval seen the troops?

Norval. The setting sun

With yellow radiance lighten'd all the vale;
And, as the warriors moved, each polish'd helm,
Corslet, or spear, glanced back his gilded beams.
The hill they climb'd; and halting at its top,
Of more than mortal size, towering, they seem'd
An host angelic clad in burning arms.

Glen. Thou talk'st it well: no leader of our host
In sounds more lofty talks of glorious war.

Norv. If I should e'er acquire a leader's name,
My speech will be less ardent. Novelty

Now prompts my tongue, and youthful admiration
Vents itself freely, since no part is mine

Of praise pertaining to the great in arms.

[Aside.

Glen. You wrong yourself, brave sir; your martial deeds Have rank'd you with the great. But mark me, Norval: Lord Randolph's favour now exalts your youth

Above his veterans of famous service.

Let me, who know these soldiers, counsel you.
Give them all honour; seem not to command;

Else they will hardly brook your late sprung power,
Which nor alliance props nor birth adorns.

Norv. Sir, I have been accustom'd all my days
To hear and speak the plain and simple truth;
And, though I have been told that there are men
Who borrow friendship's tongue to speak their scorn,
Yet in such language I am little skill'd,

Therefore I thank Glenalvon for his counsel,
Although it sounded harshly. Why remind
Me of my birth obscure? Why slur my power
With such contemptuous terms?

Glen. I did not mean

To gall your pride, which I now see is great.
Norv. My pride!

Glen. Suppress it, as you wish to prosper.
Your pride's excessive. Yet for Randolph's sake,
I will not leave you to its rash direction.
If thus you swell and frown at high-born men,
Will high-born men endure a shepherd's scorn?
Norv. A shepherd's scorn!

Glen. Yes! if you presume

To bend on soldiers these disdainful eyes,

As if you took the measure of their minds,
And said in secret, you're no match for me;
What will become of you?

Norv. Hast thou no fears for thy presumptuous self?
Glen. Ha! dost thou threaten me?

Norv. Didst thou not hear?

Glen. Unwillingly I did: a nobler foe

Had not been question'd thus; but such as thee-
Norv. Whom dost thou think me ?

Glen. Norval.

Norv. So I am-

And who is Norval in Glenalvon's eyes?

Glen. A peasant's son, a wandering beggar boy;
At best no more, even if he speaks the truth.

Norv. False as thou art, dost thou suspect my truth?
Glen. Thy truth! thou'rt all a lie; and false as guile
Is the vainglorious tale thou told'st to Randolph.
Norv. If I were chain'd, unarm'd, or bed-rid old,
Perhaps I should revile; but, as I am,

have no tongue to rail. The humble Norval Is of a race who strive not but with deeds.

Did I not fear to freeze thy shallow valour

And make thee sink too soon beneath my sword,

I'd tell thee-what thou art; I know thee well.

Glen. Dost thou not know Glenalvon, born to command Ten thousand slaves like thee ?

Norv. Villain, no more.

Draw and defend thy life. I did design

To have defied thee in another cause:

But heaven accelerates its vengeance on thee.

Now for my own and Lady Randolph's wrongs!
Lord Ran. (Enters.) Hold, I command you both.
The man that stirs makes me his foe.

Norv. Another voice than thine

That threat had vainly sounded, noble Randolph.

Glen. Hear him, my lord, he's wondrous condescending:

Mark the humility of Shepherd Norval!

Norv. Now you may scoff in safety.
Lord Ran. Speak not thus,

Taunting each other; but unfold to me

[Sheathes his sword.

The cause of quarrel; then I judge betwixt you.

Norv. Nay, my good lord, though I revere you much, My cause I plead not, nor demand your judgment.

I blush to speak, I will not, cannot speak

The opprobrious words that I from him have borne.
To the liege lord of my dear native land
I owe a subject's homage; but even him
And his high arbitration-I'd reject.
Within my bosom reigns another lord;
Honour, sole judge and umpire of itself.

1

If my free speech offend you, noble Randolph,
Revoke your favours; and let Norval go

Hence as he came, alone, but not dishonour'd!

Lord Ran. Thus far I'll mediate with impartial voice,—

The ancient foe of Caledonia's land

Now waves his banner o'er her frighted fields.

Suspend your purpose, till your country's arms
Repel the bold invader: then decide

The private quarrel.

Glen. I agree to this.

Norv. And I.
Glen. Norval,

Let not our variance mar the social hour;
Nor wrong the hospitality of Randolph.
Nor frowning anger, nor yet wrinkled hate,

Shall stain my countenance. Smooth thou thy brow,
Nor let our strife disturb the gentle dame.

Norv. Think not so lightly, sir, of my resentment:
When we contend again, our strife is mortal.

14.-SCENE FROM THE IRON CHEST.

GEORGE COLMAN, THE YOUNGER.

[George Colman, the younger, was born 1762, and died 1836. He was the author of twenty-six plays, including "John Bull," "The Iron Chest," and "Bluebeard;" also of several volumes of comic verse. Towards the end of his career he held the office of licenser and examiner of plays.]

Sir E. Wilford, approach me.-What am I to say
For aiming at your life ?-Do you not scorn me,
Despise me for it?

Wilf.

Sir E.

I! Oh, sir!

For I am singled from the herd of men,

A vile, heart-broken wretch!

Wilf.

You must;

Indeed, indeed, sir,

You deeply wrong yourself. Your equal's love,

The poor man's prayer, the orphan's tear of gratitude,
All follow you:-and I-I owe you all!

I am most bound to bless you.

Sir E.

Mark me, Wilford :

I know the value of the orphan's tear,

The poor man's prayer, respect from the respected;
feel, to merit these and to obtain them,

to taste here below that thrilling cordial