And to the nobler file, be steep'd so richly El. (who has listened to the last speech with some The fragments left at yonder full-spread banquet, Os. Thou'lt drive me frantic!-I will tell thee, woman Yet why to thee? There is another ear Which that tale better suits, and he shall hear it. [Looks at his sword, which he has unbuckled, and addresses the rest of the speech to it. Yes, trusty friend, my father knew thy worth, And often proved it-often told me of it— Though thou and I be now held lightly of, And want the gilded hatchments of the time, I think we both may prove true metal still. 'Tis thou shalt tell this story, right this wrong Rest thou till time is fitting. [Hangs up the sword. [The Women look at each other with anxiety during this speech, which they partly overhear. They both approach Oswald. El. Oswald—my dearest husband! Flo. My dear father. Os. Peace, both-we speak no more of this. I go To heave the drawbridge up. [Exit. Kat. (mounts the steps towards the loop-hole, looks out, and speaks.) The storm is gathering fast -broad, heavy drops Fall plashing on the bosom of the lake, OSWALD re-enters, and throws himself into a seat. Than is our destiny, it cannot be. Os. (to Flo.) Such is Heaven's will-it is our part to bear it. We're warranted, my child, from ancient story When the tempest's at the loudest, On its gale the eagle rides; When the ocean rolls the proudest, Through the foam the sea-bird glidesAll the rage of wind and sea Is subdued by constancy. Bar me from each wonted pleasure, Kat. And should that hap, we'll play our comedy,— Shall we not, Blackthorn? Thou shalt be Owlspiegle- [son be? Black. And who may that same hard-named perKat. I've told you nine times over. Black. Yes, pretty Katleen, but my eyes were busy In looking at you all the time you were talking; And so I lost the tale. Kat. Then shut your eyes, and let your goodly ears Do their good office. Black. Kat. Kat. A hermit hoar, a venerable man- Black. This was reversing of our ancient proverb, [ment Kat. True, most grave Blackthorn; and in punish- Black. And you would have me take this shape of And trim the wise Melchisedek !-I wonnot. What end can this serve? Black. Why, you fool, Nay, I know not, I. But if we keep this wont of being partners, [pen? [Gives a paper. I thought they glanced in every beam of moonshine, [phecies, Black. And that is quite enough, I warrant you. Preserved with other trumpery of the sort, Nay, keep it for thy pains-it is a coxcomb; Black. I tell you that he will-I will uphold Kat. Well, I do hope he'll come-there's first a [chance He will be cudgell'd by my noble uncle I cry his mercy-by my good aunt's husband, ciful! But how shall we get off, our parts being play'd? Black. "Twere a rare place, this house of Devorgoil, Kat. Hands off, rude ranger! I'm no managed hawk Kat. That cries for vengeance. Kat. (with a bundle she has taken from the ward- Black. Your tiring-room is not, I hope, far distant; And he met with a maiden in merry Sherwood, Now give me a kiss, quoth bold Robin Hood, For there never came maid into merry Sherwood, I've coursed this twelvemonth this sly puss, young And she has dodged me, turn'd beneath my nose, [Sits down on the couch to examine the paper. SCENE II. Scene changes to the inhabited apartment of the castle, as in the last scene of the preceding Act. A fire is kindled, by which OsWALD sits in an attitude of deep and melancholy thought, without paying attention to what passes around him. ELEANOR is busy in covering a table; FLORA goes out and re-enters, as if busied in the kitchen. There should be some by-play -the women whispering together, and watching the state of OSWALD; then separating, and seeking to avoid his observation, when he casually raises his head, and drops it again. This must be left to taste and management. The Women, in the first part of the scene, talk apart, and as if fearful of being overheard; the by-play of stopping occasionally, and attending to OSWALD'S movements, will give liveliness to the Scene. El. Is all prepared? Flo. Ay; but I doubt the issue [ter. Will give my sire less pleasure than you hope for. Enter KATLEEN, and hears the last speech. Were not a thing indifferent even to him We must take care the venison has due honour— This is a gloomy night-within, alas! [Looking at her husband. Still gloomier and more threatening-Let us use Whatever means we have to drive it o'er, And leave to Heaven to-morrow. Trust me, Flora, 'Tis the philosophy of desperate want To match itself but with the present evil, And face one grief at once. Away, I wish thine aid and not thy counsel. [AS FLORA is about to go off, GULLCRAMMER'S voice is heard behind the flat scene, as if from the drawbridge. Gull. (behind.) Hillo-hillo-hilloa-hoa-hoa! [OSWALD raises himself and listens; ELEANOR goes up the steps, and opens the window at the loop-hole; GULLCRAMMER's voice is then heard more distinctly. Gull. Kind Lady Devorgoil-sweet Mistress The night grows fearful, I have lost my way, Kat. (aside.) Now, as I live, the voice of Gullcrammer! Now shall our gambol be play'd off with spirit; Os. What bawling knave is this that takes our dwelling For some hedge-inn, the haunt of lated drunkards? Will fret the Baron's pride-and then he enters. [lady, Gull. Nor none to lead them right.-You kill me, If you deny me harbour. To budge from hence, And in my weary plight, were sudden death, Interment, funeral-sermon, tombstone, epitaph. Os. Who's he that is thus clamorous without? (To El.) Thou know'st him? El. (confused.) I know him?-no-yes-'tis a worthy clergyman, Benighted on his way;-but think not of him. The crags upon the left, the road is plain. To choose his way in darkness 'twixt the marsh El. What can I do? Os. Do what thou canst-the wealthiest do no more And if so much, 'tis well. These crumbling walls, [He goes to the loop-hole while he speaks, and Gull. (without.) Hillo-hoa-hoa! By my good faith, I cannot plod it farther; The attempt were death. What have we here?-is this the reverend man? Gull. Kind sir-or, good my lord-my band is But yet 'twas fresh this morning. This fell shower [Opens his cloak, and displays his doublet. Os. A goodly inventory-Art thou a preacher? Gull. Yea-I laud Heaven and good Saint Mungo for it. Os. 'Tis the time's plague, when those that should weed follies Out of the common field, have their own minds Example should with precept join, to show us Os. (speaks from the window.) Patience, my friend, | When our learn'd Principal such sounding laud [Descends, and exit. El. O, that the screaming bittern had his couch Where he deserves it, 3 in the deepest marsh! 3 Kat. I would not give this sport for all the rent El. Yes, saucy girl; but, an it please you, then Whose chiefest fault is loving me too fondly, my kind Enter GULLCRAMMER, his dress damaged by the storm; ELEANOR runs to meet him, in order to explain to him that she wished him to behave as a stranger. GULLCRAMMER, mistaking her approach for an invitation to familiarity, advances with the air of pedantic conceit belonging to his character, when OSWALD enters,— ELEANOR recovers herself, and assumes an air of distance- GULLCRAMMER is confounded, and does not know what to make of it. Os. The counterpoise has clean given way; the Must e'en remain unraised, and leave us open, Gave to mine Essay on the hidden qualities Of the sulphuric mineral, I disclaim'd All self-exaltment. And (turning to the women) when [at the dance, Daughter to Kirkencroft of Kirkencroft, Os. Come, sir, enough of this. [heavens, That you're our guest to-night, thank the rough Togild with compliments. There's in your profession, As the best grain will have its piles of chaff, A certain whiffler, who hath dared to bait May scarce be proof to save his ass's ears. Kat. (aside.) Umph-I am strongly tempted; And give his brains a chance to save his bones. [cover him, El. (apart to Flo.) What shall we do? If he disHe'll fling him out at window. Flo. My father's hint to keep himself unknown El. But yet the fool, if we produce his bounty, Kat. Do not produce them. Of a reserve of victuals. E'en let the fop go supperless to bed, And keep his bones whole. Os. (to his Wife.) Hast thou aught To place before him ere he seek repose? El. Alas! too well you know our needful fare Is of the narrowest now, and knows no surplus. Os. Shame us not with thy niggard housekeeping; He is a stranger-were it our last crust, And he the veriest coxcomb ere wore taffeta, A pitch he's little short of-he must share it, Though all should want to-morrow. Gull. (partly overhearing what passes between them.) Nay, I am no lover of your sauced dainties: Plain food and plenty is my motto still. Your mountain air is bleak, and brings an appetite: A soused sow's face, now, to my modest thinking, Has ne'er a fellow. What think these fair ladies Of a sow's face and sausages? [lack [Makes signs to ELEANOR. Flo. Plague on the vulgar hind, and on his courtesies, The whole truth will come out! Os. What should they think, but that you're like to Your favourite dishes, sir, unless perchance You bring such dainties with you. Gull. No, not with me; not, indeed, Directly with me; but-Aha! fair ladies! [Makes signs again. Kat. (aside.) He'll draw the beating down-Were Heaven's will be done! [that the worst, Os. (apart.) What he can mean?-this is the veriest Still he's a stranger, and the latest act [dog-whelpOf hospitality in this old mansion Shall not be sullied. Gull. Troth, sir, I think, under the ladies' favour, Without pretending skill in second sight, Those of my cloth being seldom conjurers―― Os. (aside.) I'll take my Bible-oath that thou art none. Gull. I do opine, still with the ladies' favour, That I could guess the nature of our supper: I do not say in such and such precedence The dishes will be placed; housewives, as you know, On such forms have their fancies; but, I say still, That a sow's face and sausages Os. Peace, sir! O'er-driven jests (if this be one) are insolent. Flo. (apart, seeing her mother uneasy.) The old saw still holds true-a churl's benefits, Sauced with his lack of feeling, sense, and courtesy, Savour like injuries. [A horn is winded without; then a loud knocking at the gate. Leo. (without.) Ope, for the sake of love and charity! [OSWALD goes to the loop-hole. Gull. Heaven's mercy! should there come another stranger, And he half-starved with wandering on the wolds, And bid the gallant who that bugle winded Sleep in the storm-swept waste; as meet for him Os. (seems to have spoken with those without, and [Exit. El. (to Flo.) The tempest thickens. By that winded bugle, I guess the guest that next will honour us.-- Flo. Mother, if I knew less or more of this Gull. (approaching.) Come, ladies, now you see the jest is threadbare, [sages-And you must own that same sow's face and sauRe-enter OSWALD with LEONARD, supporting BAULDIE DURWARD. OSWALD takes a view of them, as formerly of GULLCRAMMER, then speaks. Os. (to Leo.) By thy green cassock, hunting-spear, I guess thou art a huntsman? [and bugle, Leo. (bowing with respect.) A ranger of the neighbouring royal forest, Under the good Lord Nithsdale; huntsman, therefore, Os. Welcome, as either. I have loved the chase, [an humble mendicant, Dur. (recovering his breath.) Is but a beggar, sir, Who feels it passing strange, that from this roof, Above all others, he should now crave shelter. Os. Why so? You're welcome both-only the word Warrants more courtesy than our present means Permit us to bestow. A huntsman and a soldier May be a prince's comrade, much more mine; And for a beggar-friend, there little lacks, Save that blue gown and badge, and clouted pouches, To make us comrades too; then welcome both, And to a beggar's feast. I fear brown bread, And water from the spring, will be the best on't; For we had cast to wend abroad this evening, And left our larder empty. Gull. Yet, if some kindly fairy, In our behalf, would search its hid recesses, | (Apart.) We'll not go supperless now-we're three to one. Still do I say, that a sowsed face aud sausages- |