Thou art the murderer; thou the parricide.
I stand absolved; the guilt is all thy own.

Mat. If it be guilt to suffer keen reproach,
Pain, persecution, terror, chains and death,
For him I love, rather than stain my soul
With foul disloyalty, I am indeed
The guiltiest of my sex, and well deserve
The pangs I feel.

Mor. Thou'st driven me to the pit
Of black despair, and I will drag thee down,
To share the dreadful ruin thou hast made.

Mat.I know thysavage purpose; but,remember, The hour approaches, when thou shalt repent This base, unmanly triumph. William comes; Hear that and tremble, thou unnatural brother!

Nor rocks, nor caves, shall hide thee from his

vengeance;

Inglorious, and unpitied, shalt thou fall, And after ages shall consign thy name To endless scorn, and infamy immortal.

[Erit MATILDA.

Mor. Inexorable judge! I stand condemned,
And shall await my doom; but not alone,
Or unrevenged, shall Morcar fall-henceforth
I bid adieu to love, and all his train

Of fond delusions. Vengeance! I am thine,
And thine alone: Thou daughter of despair!
Destructive goddess! come, possess my soul
With all thy terrors-Yes; it shall be so.
A few short hours are all that niggard fate
Will deign to spare me; I'll employ them well,
For I will crowd into the narrow circle
A little age of misery and horror.

Ha! Siward here! what brought thee hither?

Siw. Pity

Enter SIWARD.

For the distressed. I knew thou wert unhappy,
And came where duty called, to pour the balm
Of friendship in, and heal thy wounded heart.
Mor. O, they have pierced too deep; even
thou, my friend,

Thou hast betrayed me: was it not unkind
To set my prisoner free; to let him meet
Matilda, and conspire against my life?

Siw. Impossible! by Heaven, the artful story
He told so wrought upon my easy soul,
I thought him innocent.

Mor. Hast thou not heard

Siw. From Harold only an imperfect tale; So strange I could not credit it.

Mor. Alas!

"Tis all too true: I am the veriest slave,
The meanest wretch, that e'er was trampled on
By an imperious woman: O, my friend!
My Siward! I have nought on earth but thee:
Shouldst thou forsake me in this hour of terror !
But sure thou wilt not!

Siw. No: whate'er the will

Of wayward fortune may determine for us,
Behold me ready to partake thy fate
If we must sue for peace, let Siward bear
The olive for thee: if once more we cast
The desperate dye of battle, let me perish

By Morcar's side. Come, let us on together; Shake off this load of unavailing sorrow, And seek the field; there, if we fall, we fall With honour: if we rise, we rise to glory.

Mor. Talk not of glory to a wretch like me, Bereft of every hope. There was a time, When that enlivening call would have awaked My active spirit, and this drooping heart Bounded with joy; but, my Matilda lost, Revenge alone

Enter a Messenger to SIWARD with letters. Siw. From Walstcoff these? 'Tis well-retire. [Erit Mesenger. [Reads.]-How's this? then all is lost. He writes me here, that William's fame in arms, Spite of his cruel and oppressive laws, Hath raised him friends in every part: already The northern rebels are dispersed, and thousands Flock to the royal standard. To resist Were madness.

Mor. And to yield were cowardice
More shameful.

Siw. What must we resolve on?
Mor. Death:

The wretch's only hope, the wished-for end
Of every care; but I would meet him cloathed
In all his terrors, with his reeking spear,
Dipt in the blood of an ungrateful mistress,
And a false happy rival: Then, my Siward,
Shalt thou behold me welcome the kind stroke,
And smile in agony.

Siw. Unhappy youth!

The storm beats hard upon thee; but our fate Will soon be fixt, for William comes to-morrow. Mor. To-morrow! ha! then something must

be done,

And quickly too. If William comes, he comes
To triumph o'er us: then, my Siward, who
Shall punish Edwin? who-shall wed Matilda?
I cannot bear it-If thou lov'st me, Siward-
For now I mean to try thy virtue—swear
By all the powers, that wait on injured honour,
Whate'er my anxious soul requests of thee,
Thou'lt not refuse it.

Siw. By the hallowed flame
Of sacred friendship, that within this breast,
Since the first hour I sealed thee for my own,
With unremitted ardour still hath glowed,
I will not-Speak, my Morcar, here I swear
To aid thy purpose.

Mor. 'Tis enough; and now Come near, and mark me: Thou command'st the

Sizo. Certainly.

Mor. Then speak,

And do not trifle with mc.

Siw. Sure, my lord,

You cannot mean to

Mor. Is he not a villain?

Siw. I fear he may be so.

Mor. A hypocrite?

Siw. To serve, to honour, to-obey you.

Mor. O glorious instance of exalted friendship! My other self, my best, my dear-loved SiwardConscience! thou busy monitor, away

And leave me-Siward, when shall it be done? To-night, my Siward, shall it not?

Siw. Or never.

SCENE I.-A Gothic Hall.

Or Edwin.-Hence! ye visionary fears;
Ye vain chimeras, hence !-It is no matter:
Conscience, I heed thee not; 'tis self-defence,
Nature's first law, and I must stand acquitted.
The prudent Siward seemed to hesitate,
As if he wished, but knew not how to shun
The office. He, who could behold my tortures
With all that cold tranquillity, would ne'er
Have ventured to remove them. But I've trusted
The sword of vengeance to a safer hand.
What ho! Who waits?

Enter an Officer.

That soldier, whom thou saw'st

In private conference with me, is he gone As I directed him?

Offi. My lord, even now

dings:

His head shall pay the forfeit.

Har. Whilst he lives

We are not safe.

Mor. No more we are, good Harold;

'Tis fit he perish, is it not? What say'st thou? Har. Prudence demands his life to save your

Own.

Mor. Oh! thou hast given such comfort to my

soul

Mor. 'Tis well.

When he returns, conduct him to me-Stay:
If Siward comes this way, I'm not at leisure:

I will not see him [Starts.] Hark! didst thou not hear

The solemn curfew? Offi. No, my lord.

Mor. Not hear it!

It shocks my soul with horror-Hark! again! Hollow and dreadful! Sure thy faculties

Are all benumbed.

Offi. Indeed, I heard it not.

Mor. Away! and leave me to myself.

Methought

[Exit Officer.

I heard a voice cry-Stop-it is thy brother!
We loved each other well; our early years
Were spent in mutual happiness together:
Matilda was not there-i do remember
One day, in sportive mood, I rashly plunged
Into the rapid flood, which had well nigh
O'erwhelmed me; when the brave, the gallant
Edwin

Rushed in, and saved me.- -Shall I, in return,
Destroy my kind preserver? Horrid thought!
Forbid it, Heaven! [Pauses.] I am myself again.
All powerful nature! once more I am thine.
He shall not die-Who's there?

You mean the noble prisoner there, I fear It is too late: This moment, as I passed The citadel, I saw a mangled corse Drawn forth by Siward's order

Mor. Slave, thou liest!

Away this moment, bring me better news On peril of thy life!

Who knows, but Heaven,

[Exit Officer.

In gracious pity, still may interpose,
And save me from the guilt? It is not done;
It shall not-must not be-All's quiet yet;
I have not heard the signal. [The bell tolls.
Hark! he's dead:

My brother's dead!-Oh! cover me, ye shades
Of everlasting night! Hide, if ye can,
A murderer from himself. Ha! see, he comes:
His wounds are bleeding still! his angry eyes
Glare full upon me! Speak-what wouldst thou
have?

Matilda shall be thine-He smiles, and leaves

[Rises.

Who's there? Ha! Siward here!
Speak, murderer, speak!
Where is my brother? Villain, thou hast snared
My soul; my honour's stained, my fame destroyed,
And my sweet peace of mind is lost for ever!
Siw. Matilda will restore it.
Mor. Never, never!

The price of blood! No: Could Matilda bring
The vanquished world, in dowry with her charms,
I would not wed her. O! could I recall
One hasty moment, one rash, cruel act-
But 'twas thy savage hand that———
Sim. I received

Your orders: 'Twas my duty to obey them. Mor. Where slept thy friendship then? Thou know'st despair

And madness urged me to it--but for thee-
Thy callous heart had never felt the pangs,
The agonies of disappointed love;

Thou did'st not know Matilda-Cursed obedience!

How often has thy insolence opposed

Thy master and thy prince! how often dared
To thwart my will, and execute thy own:
But, when I bade thee do a deed of horror,
And shed a brother's blood-thou could'st obey

guilt,

Nor half thy sorrows: I shall rend thy soul.
Prepare thee for another deeper wound,
And know that Edwin loved thee! In his hand,
Whilst mine was lifted up for his destruction,
I found this paper; 'tis the counterpart
Of one he had dispatched to William; read it,
And tremble at thy complicated guilt.

Mor. Taking the paper.] What's here? He
pleads my pardon with the king,
Ascribes my frantic zeal, in Edgar's cause,
To ill-advised warmth, and recommends
His-murderer to mercy! Horrid thought!
I am the vilest, most abandoned slave,
That e'er disgraced humanity-O Siward!
If thou hast yet, among the dying embers
Of our long friendship, one remaining spark
Of kind compassion for the wretched Morcar,
Lend me thy aid, to shake off the sad load
Of hated life, that presses sore upon me.

Siw. Though thou'rt no longer worthy of my friendship,

Deaf to the cries of nature, and the voice
Of holy truth, that would have counselled thee
To better deeds, yet hath my foolish heart
Some pity for thec-After crimes, like these,
There is but one way left. Say, wilt thou patient
wait

Mor. Matilda, rise;

I pray thee leave me

[Weeps.

Mat. Gracious Heaven! he weeps ; Propitious omen! O, my lord! those tears Are the soft marks of sympathizing woe, And seem to say, I shall not plead in vain.

Mor. Ask what thou wilt, for know, so dear I
hold

Matilda's happiness, that, here I swear,
If all the kingdoms of the peopled earth
Were mine to give, I'd lay them at her feet;
But, much I fear. they would not make her happy.
Mat. Alas! my lord, Matilda's happiness
Is centered all in one dear precious jewel;
'Tis in thy keeping-Edwin-

Mor. What of him?

Mat. Is innocent.
Mor. I know it.

Mat. Just and good;

He never meant to injure thee; indeed, He did not.

Mor. I believe it, for his nature

Was ever mild and gentle.

Mai. Good my lord,

You mock me.

Mor. No, Matilda; speak, go on,

And praise him: I could talk to thee for ever Of Edwin's virtues

Mat. Then thou would'st not hurt

His precious life, thou would'st not-
Mor. I would give

A thousand worlds to save him.

Mat. Would'st thou then

My prayers are heard, thou hast forgiven all, And I am happy. Speak, is Edwin free!

VOL. II.

Mor. From every care-would I were half so

blest!

Mat. What mean you? Ha! th eyes are fixt with horror,

Thy looks are wild. What hast thou done? O! speak.

Mor. Matilda, if thou com'st for Edwin's life, It is too late-for Edwin is no more.

Mat. And is my Edwin slain?

Mor. Ay: basely murdered.

O! 'twas the vilest, most unnatural deed
That ever-

Mat. Blasted be the cruel hand,

That dealt the blow! O, may his guilty heart
Ne'er taste of balmy peace, or sweet repose!
Mor. But ever, by the vulture conscience torn,
Bleed inward, still unpitied, till he seek
For refuge in the grave.

Mut. Nor find it there.

Mor. 'Tis well: thy curses are accomplished all;

I feel them here within-for know-'twas I.

I gave the fatal order, and my friend,
My Siward, has too faithfully performed it.
Mat. Siward! impossible! There dwells not
then

In human breast, or truth, or virtue-O !
Unnatural brother! but I will be calm.
Mor. Alas! thy fate is happiness to mine;
For thou art innocent.

Mat. And soon, I hope

To be rewarded for it. O! my Edwin,
Matilda soon shall follow thee-thou think'st
I am unarmed, deserted, doomed, like thee,
To hated life; but know, I have a friend,
A bosom-friend, and prompt, as thine, to enter
On any bloody service I command.

[Draws a dagger. Mor. Command it then for justice, for revenge!

Behold! my bosom rises to the blow;
Strike here, and end a wretched murderer-
Mat. No;

That were a mercy thou hast not deserved;
I shall not seek revenge in Morcar's death,
In mine thou shalt be wretched-

[Attempts to stab herself; MORCAR lays hold
of the dagger.

Mor. Stop, Matilda

Stop thy rash hand! the weight of Edwin's blood Sits heavy on my heart. O! do not pierce it With added guilt.

Mat. No more! I must be gone

To meet my Edwin, who already chides
My lingering steps, and beckons me away.
Mor. Yet hear me! O! if penitence and
prayer,

If deep contrition, sorrow, and remorse,
Could bring him back to thy desiring eyes,
O! with what rapture would I yield him now
To thee, Matilda-bear me witness-Ha!

[Starts. 'Tis he--Look up, dear injured maid-he comes To claim my promise.

2 L

Mor. O unexpected bliss! what gracious handSiw. Behold the cordial draught I promised you!

I knew thy noble nature, when the storm
Of passion had subsided, would abhor
A deed so impious-'Tis the only time,
That Siward ever did deceive his friend.
Canst thou forgive ?

Mor. Forgive thee! O thou art
My guardian angel, sent by gracious Heaven
To save me from perdition. O, my brother!
I blush to stand before thee-wilt thou take
From these polluted hands, one precious gift?
"Twill make thee full amends for all thy wrongs.
Accept her, and be happy.

[He joins the hands of EDWIN and MATILDA, then turning to SIWARD,

O, Siward! from what weight of endless woe Hath thy blest hand preserved me!

Edw. O, my Matilda! how shall we repay
Our noble benefactor? Much I owe
To gallant Siward, but to Morcar more:
Thou gav'st me life, but my kind, generous bro-
ther

Enhanced the gift, and blessed me with Matilda.
Mat. [To MORCAR.] Words are too poor to
thank thee as I ought;
Accept this tribute of a grateful heart,
These tears of joy; and, O! may every curse
My frantic grief for Edwin poured upon thee,
Be changed to dearest blessings on thy head!

O, Edwin! say, canst thou forgive the crime
Of frantic love, of madness and despair?

Edw. As in my latest hour from Heaven I hope
Its kind indulgence for my errors past,
Even so, my brother, from my soul, I pardon
And pity thee.

Mor. Then I shall die in peace.

Edw. Talk not of death, my brother; thou must live

To see our happiness complete, to hear
My sweet Matilda pour forth all her heart
In rapturous thanks to thee, and to thy friend:
And grateful Edwin bless thee for thy bounties.
Mor. It must not be: I know too much al-