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 questioned 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 hell
Is the vainglorious tale thou toldest to Randolph.
Norv. If I were chained, unarmed, or bedrid old,
Perhaps I should revile; but as I am,

I 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 valor,

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 Randolph. (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 cach other, but unfold to me

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 1 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;
Honor, sole judge and umpire of itself.
If my free speech offend you, noble Randolph
Revoke your favors, and let Norval go

Hence as he came, alone, but not dishonored!

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.

ПОМЕ

THE DUKE OF CARINTHIA AND HUON.

Duke. My Lord, send Huon to me. Question not,
Advise me not. He marries or he dies. (Exit Ulrick.)
Life spent to waste! My pride become my shame!
For this I rear'd her-rear'd to tow'ring thoughts.
A gasp of being only left, and that

To sigh that being has been spent in vain!
For her, last shoot of an illustrious tree!
I loved my serf, was vain of him, and made
My vanity to smile through his deserts ;
And now,
their light is cloud to all my hopes.
Through my own pride my high aspirings fall.

They shall not fall! Good bye to truth! He dares
To love my child-to covet her I grudged

Surrender of to those could boast estate

Equal to mine!

Born at my very foot,

How durst he lift his eyes so giddy high!

He comes, I see!

The passion never yet

I dreamed of, stares upon me, in his look,

His air, his gait. 'Tis dead-or he must die! (Sits.)

Huon. I first must love.

Duke. And hast thou never loved?

Why art thou silent? Wherefore holds thy tongue
Its peace, and not thy cheek?

Huon. My cheek!

Duke. It talks!

A flush pass'd o'er it as I spoke to thee:
And now it talks again—and on the ground

Thou cast'st thine eye.

Thou art in love already.

"Thou first must love"- My friend,

Art thou not?

Never mind, but keep

Thy secret. I have fixed that thou shalt marry.

Huon. My lord

Duke. (Interrupting him.) I know it will advantage thee, And I have look'd around my court to find

A partner for thee, and have lit on one.

Huon. (Most earnestly.) My lord

Duke. (Interrupting him again.) She has beauty, Huon, she has wealth;

And what doth qualify her better still

As of unequal matches discords grow

She's of thy own class, Huon, she is a serf. (Rises.)

Huon. (Impetuously.) My lord

Duke. (Interrupting indignantly.) My serf!-How

Now? Wouldst thou rebel?

Huon. Rebel, my lord?

Duke. I trust I was deceived!

I did not see defiance in thine eye,

And hear it on thy tongue! Thou wouldst not dare

So much as harbor wish to thwart thy lord,

Much less intent? Thou know'st him! know'st thyself!

Thou may'st have scruples-that thou canst not help;

But thou canst help indulging them in the face

Of thy lord's will. And so, as 'tis my will

Thou marry straight, and I have found thy match,

I'll draw a paper up, where thou shalt make

The proffer of thy hand to Catherine,

And thou shalt sign it, Huon. (Sits at the table and writes.)

Huon. That I were dead!

O, what is death compared to slavery !

Brutes may bear bondage-they were made for it,
When Heaven set man above them: but no mark,
Definite and indelible, it put

Upon one man to mark him from another,

That he should live his slave! O heavy curse!

To have thought, reason, judgment, feelings, tastes,
Passions, and conscience, like another man,
And not have equal liberty to use them,
But call his mood their master! Why was I born
With passion to be free-with faculties
To use enlargement—with desires that cleave
To high achievements-and with sympathies
Attracting me to objects fair and noble,—
And, yet, with power over myself, as little,
As any beast of burden? Why should I live?
There are of brutes themselves that will not tame
So high in them is nature;-whom, the spur
And lash, instead of curbing, only chafe

Into prouder mettle;-that will let you kill them,
Ere they will suffer you to master them.
I am a man, and live!

Duke. Here, Huon, sign,
And Catherine is your wife.
Huon. I will not sign.

Duke. How now, my serf!

Huon. My lord, I am a man;

And, as a man, owe duty, higher far

Than that I owe to thee, which Heaven expects

That I discharge. Didst thou command me murder,

Steal, commit perjury, or even lie,

Should I do it, though a serf? No! To espouse her,

Not loving her, were murder of her peace.

I will not sign for that! With like default,
To compass mastery of her effects,

Were robbery. I will not sign for that!

To swear, what I must swear, to make her mine,