ACT II
SCENE I.—The Armoury.—Suits of Armour are arranged on both Sides upon Pedestals, with the Names of their Possessors written under each.
Enter Motley, peeping in.
MOTL. The coast is clear!—Hist! Hist!—You may enter.
Enter Percy.
PERCY. Loiter not here!—Quick, my good fellow!—Conduct me to Angela!
MOTL. Softly, softly! A little caution is needful; and I promise you
just now I'm not upon roses.—You remember the servant who hinted that Earl
Osmond had an hand in his brother's murder?—Should I be suspected of admitting
you to the Castle, his fate might be mine; and whatever you may think of
it, my Lord, I shouldn’t be at all pleased at waking to-morrow morning,
to find myself dead in my bed.
PERCY. If such are your fears, why not lead [22] me at once to Angela?
Are we not more exposed in this open hall?
MOTL. Be contented, and leave all to me: I will contrive matters so
that Osmond shall have you before his eyes, and be no jot the wiser.—Here!—(Taking
down a suit of armour)—Put on this coat of mail: you must make up your
mind to play a statue for an hour or two.
PERCY. How?
MOTL. Nay, 'tis absolutely necessary.—Quick! quick! ere the servants
quit the hall, where they are now at dinner.—Here's the helmet!—the gauntlet!—the
shield!—So now take this truncheon in your hand; and there we have
you armed cap-a-pee!
PERCY. And now be good enough to explain what purpose this masquerade
is to answer.
MOTL. Willingly. You are to know, that since the late Earl's
death the Castle is thought to be haunted: the servants are fully persuaded
that his ghost wanders every night through the long galleries, and parades
the old towers and dreary halls which abound in this melancholy mansion.
He is supposed to be drest in compleat armour; and that which you wear
at present was formerly his. Now hear my plan. The Earl prepares
to hold a conference with Lady Angela; even now I heard her summoned to
attend him in the Armoury. Placed upon this pedestal you may listen to
their discourse unobserved, and thus form a proper judgment both of your
mistress and her guardian. As soon as it grows dark I will conduct
you to Angela's apartments: the obscurity will then shelter you from discovery;
and even should you be observed, you will pass for Earl Reginald’s spectre.
PERCY. I do not dislike your plan: but tell me, Gilbert, do you
believe this tale of the apparition?
[23]
MOTL. Oh! Heaven forbid! Not a word of it. Had I minded all the strange
things related of this Castle, I should have died of fright in the first
half-hour. Why, they say that Earl Hubert rides every night round the Castle
on a white horse; that the ghost of Lady Bertha haunts the west pinnacle
of the Chapel-Tower; and that Lord Hildebrand, who was condemned for treason
some sixty years ago, may be seen in the Great Hall, regularly at midnight,
playing at foot-ball with his own head! Above all, they say that the spirit
of the late Countess sits nightly in her Oratory, and sings her baby to
sleep! However, if it be so—(A bell sounds thrice, loud and solemn.)—Hark!
'tis the Earl!—Quick to your post!—
(Percy ascends the pedestal.)
—Farewell! I must get out of his way; but as soon as he quits
this chamber I’ll rejoin you.
PERCY. Do so; and farewell.
(Exit Motley)
(The folding-doors are thrown open: Saib, Hassan, Muley, and Alaric
enter, preceding Earl Osmond, who walks with his arms folded, and his eyes
bent upon the ground. Saib advances a sopha, into which, after making
a few turns through the room, Osmond throws himself. He motions to his
attendants, and they withdraw. He appears lost in thought; then suddenly
rises, and again traverses the room with disordered steps.)
OSM. I will not sacrifice my happiness to hers! For sixteen long
years have I thirsted; and now when the cup of joy again stands full before
me, shall I dash it from my lip? No, Angela, you ask of me too much.
Since the moment when I pierced her heart, deprived of whom life became
odious; since my soul was stained with his blood who loved me, with hers
whom I loved, no form has been grateful to my eye, no voice spoken plea/sure
[24] to my soul, save Angela’s, save only Angela's! Doting upon one whom
death has long clasped in his arms; tortured by desires which I never hoped
to satisfy, many a mournful year has my heart known no throb but of anguish,
no guest but remorse at committing a fruitless crime. Hope, that
stranger, once more revisits my bosom: the fiend, who led me through passion's
mazes to the heights of guilt, owns that a crime so great well merits a
reward. He bids the monument’s jaws unclose: Evelina revives in her daughter,
and soon shall the fires which consume me be quenched in Angela's arms.
What though her heart be Percy’s? What though she prefers a basilisk’s
kiss to mine? Because my short-lived joy may cause her eternal sorrow,
shall I reject those pleasures sought so long, desired so earnestly? That
will I not, by Heaven! Mine she is, and mine she shall be, though Reginald’s
bleeding ghost flit before me, and thunder in my ear—‘Hold! Hold!’—Peace,
stormy heart! She comes!
(Enter Angela.)
OSM. (In a softened voice.) Come hither, Angela. Wherefore so
sad? That downcast eye, that listless air, neither suit your age
or fortunes. Raised from obscurity to rank and splendour, can this change
call no smile upon your cheek? Where-e’er you turn, respect and adoration
wait you; a thousand servants move obedient to your nod. The treasures
of India are lavished to adorn your person; yet still do I see you, forgetting
what you are, look back with regret to what you were!
ANG. Oh! my good Lord, esteem me not ungrateful! I acknoledge
your bounties, but they have not made me happy. I still linger in
thought [25] near those scenes where I passed the blessed period of infancy;
I still thirst for those simple pleasures which habit has made to me most
dear. The birds which my own hands reared, and the flowers which my own
hands planted; the banks on which I rested when fatigued, the wild tangled
wood which supplied me with strawberries, and the village church where
I prayed to be virtuous, while I yet knew of vice and virtue but the name,
all have acquired rights to my memory and my love!
OSM. What? these costly dresses, these scenes of pomp and greatness—
ANG. Dazzle my eyes, but leave my heart unsatisfied. What I would
meet with is affection, not respect; I had rather be obliged than obeyed;
and all these glittering gems are far less dear to me, than one flower
of a wreath which Edwy's hands have woven.
OSM. Confusion!
ANG. While I saw you, Cheviot Hills, I was happy, Oh! how happy!
While I listened to your artless accents, friends of my childhood, how
swelled my fond heart with gratitude and pleasure. At morn when I
left my bed, light were my spirits, and gay as the zephyrs of summer; and
when at night my head again pressed my pillow, I whispered to myself, ‘Happy
has been to-day, and to-morrow will be as happy!’ Then sweet was my sleep;
and my dreams were of those whom I loved dearest.
OSM. Romantic enthusiast! These thoughts did well for the village maid,
but disgrace the daughter of Sir Malcolm Mowbray: Let them be changed for
others, better suited to your birth, to the fortune which awaits you. Hear
me, Angela; an English baron loves you, a nobleman than whom [26] our island
boasts few more potent. ‘Tis to him that your hand is destined, 'tis
on him that your heart must be bestowed.
ANG. I cannot dispose of that which has long been another's—My heart
is Edwy's.
OSM. Edwy's? A peasant's?
ANG. For the obscurity of his birth chance must be blamed; the
merit of his virtues belongs wholly to himself.
OSM. By Heaven, you seem to think that poverty is a virtue!
ANG. Sir, I think 'tis a misfortune, not a crime: And when in spite
of' nature's injustice, and the frowns of a prejudiced and illiberal world,
I see some low-born but illustrious spirit prove itself superior to the
station which it fills, I hail it with pleasure, with admiration, with
respect! Such a spirit I found in Edwy, and, finding, loved!
OSM. My blood boils with passion!
ANG. You say, that by these sentiments I disgrace my rank: I say, that
to break my given word would disgrace it more. Edwy has my plighted faith:
He received it on the last evening which I passed in Northumberland, as
we sat on a low bench before old Allan's cottage. It was an heavenly night,
sweet and tranquil as the loves of angels: A gentle breeze whispered among
the honeysuckles which bloomed above us, and the full moon tinged with
her silver light the distant towers of Alnwic. It was then that for the
first time I gave him my hand, and I swore that I never would give it but
to him! It was then that for the first time he pressed his lips to mine,
and I swore that my lips should never by pressed by another!
OSM. Girl! girl! you drive me to distraction!
[27]
ANG. You alarm me, my Lord! Permit me to retire.—(Going, Osmond detains
her violently by the arm.)
OSM. Stay!—(In a softer tone.) Angela! I love you!
ANG. (Starting.) My Lord!
OSM. (Passionately.) Love you to madness!—My bosom is a gulph of devouring
flames! I must quench them in your arms, or perish!—Nay, strive not
to escape: Remain, and hear me! I offer you my hand: If you accept
it, mistress of these fair and rich domains, your days shall glide away
in happiness and honour; but if you refuse and scorn my offer, force shall
this instant—
ANG. Force? Oh! No!—You dare not be so base!
OSM. Reflect on your situation, Angela; you are in my power—remember
it, and be wise!
ANG. If you have a generous mind, that will be my surest safeguard.
Be it my plea, Osmond, when thus I sue to you for mercy, for protection!
Look on me with pity, Osmond! ‘Tis the daughter of the man you loved, 'tis
a creature, friendless, wretched, and forlorn, who kneels before you, who
flies to you for refuge! True, I am in your power: Then save me, respect
me, treat me not cruelly; for—I am in your power!
OSM. I will hear no more. Will you accept my offer?
ANG. Osmond, I conjure you—
OSM. Answer my question!
ANG. Mercy! Mercy!
OSM. Will you be mine?—Speak! Speak!
ANG. (After a moment’s pause, rises, and pronounces with firmness.)
Never, so help me Heaven!
[28]
OSM. (Seizing her.) Your fate then is decided!
(Angela shrieks.)
PERCY. (In a hollow voice.)—Hold!
OSM. (Starts, but still grasps Angela’s arm.)—Ha! What was that?
ANG. (Struggling to escape.) Hark! Hark!—Heard you not a voice?
OSM. (Gazing upon Percy.)—It came from hence!—From Reginald!—Was it
not a delusion?—Did indeed his spirit—(Relapsing into his former passion.)
Well, be it so! Though his ghost should rush between us, thus would
I clasp her—Horror! What sight is this!—(At the moment that he again seizes
Angela, Percy extends his truncheon with a menacing gesture, and descends
from the pedestal. Osmond releases Angela, who immediately rushes from
the chamber, while Percy advances a few steps, and remains gazing on the
Earl steadfastly.) —I know that shield!—that helmet!—Speak to me, dreadful
vision!—Tax me with my crimes!—Tell me, that you come—Stay! Speak!—(Following
Percy, who, when he reaches the door, through which Angela escaped, turns,
and signs to him with his hand. Osmond starts back in terror.)
—He forbids my following!—He leaves me!—The door closes—(In a sudden
burst of passion, and drawing his sword.)—Hell, and fiends! I'll
follow him, though lightnings blast me!—(He rushes distractedly from the
chamber.)[1]
[29]
SCENE II.—The Castle-Hall.
Enter Alice.
ALICE. Here's rudeness! Here's ill-breeding! On my
conscience, this house grows worse and worse every day!
Enter Motley.
MOTL. What can he have done with himself? Perhaps weary of waiting
for me in the Armoury, he has found his way alone to Angela. How
now, dame Alice, what has happened to you? You look angry.
ALICE. By my troth, fool, I’ve little reason to look pleased.
To be frightened out of my wits by night, and thumped and bumped about
by day, is not likely to put one in the best humour.
MOTL. Poor soul! And who has been thumping and bumping
you?
ALICE. Who has? You should rather ask who has not.—Why only hear:—As
I was just now going along the narrow passage which leads to the Armoury—singing
to myself, and thinking of nothing, I met Lady Angela flying away as if
for dear life!—So I dropp'd her a curtsey—but might as well have spared
my pains. Without minding me any more than if I had been a dog or
a cat—she pushed me on one side: and before I could recover my balance,
somebody else, who came bouncing by me, gave me t'other thump—and there
I lay sprawling upon the floor. However, I tumbled with all possible decency,
and took great care that my petticoats should cover my legs.
MOTL. Somebody else! What somebody else?
[30]
ALICE. I know not—but he seemed to be in armour.
MOTL. In armour? Pray, Alice, looked he like a ghost?
ALICE. What he looked like, I cannot say;—but I'm sure he didn’t feel
like one: However, you've not heard the worst. While I was sprawling
upon the ground, my Lord comes tearing along the passage—The first thing
he did was to stumble against me—away went his heels—over he came—and in
the twinkling of an eye there lay his Lordship! As soon as he got up again—Mercy!
how he stormed!— He snatched me up—called me an ugly old wirtch—shook the
breath out of my body—then clapped me on the ground again, and bounced
away after the other two!
MOTL. My mind misgives me!—But what can this mean, Alice?
ALICE. The meaning I neither know, or care about;—but this I know—I’ll
stay no longer in an house where I'm treated so disrespectfully. ‘My Lady’—says
I—‘Out of my way!’—says she, and pushes me on one side.—‘My Lord!’—says
I—‘You be damned!’—says he, and pushes me on t’other!—I protest I never
was so ill used, even when I was a young woman!
(Exit)
MOTL. This account alarms me!—Should Percy be discovered—The very thought
gives me a creak in my neck!—At any rate I had better enquire whether—
(Going)
Enter Father Philip hastily.
F. PHIL. (Stopping him.) Get out of the house!—That’s your way!
[31]
MOTL. Why, what’s the meaning—
F. PHIL. Don’t stand prating there, but do as I bid you!
MOTL. But first tell me—
F. PHIL. I can only tell you to get out of the house. Kenric
has discovered Earl Percy—You are known to have introduced him—The Africans
are in search of you—If you are found, you will be hung out of hand. Fly
then to Edric’s cottage—hide yourself there!—Hark—Some one comes! Away,
away, ere it is too late!—(Pushing him out)
MOTL. (Confused) But Earl Percy—But Angela—
F. PHIL. Leave them to me! You shall hear from me soon.
Only take care of yourself, and fly with all diligence!—Away! (Exit Motley)
F. PHIL. (Alone.) So, so, he's off, and now I've time to take breath.
I've not moved so nimbly for the last twenty years; and, in truth, I'm
at present but ill calculated for velocity of motion. However, my exertions
have not been thrown away: I've saved this poor knave from Osmond's vengeance—and
should my plan for the Lady’s release succeed—Poor little soul!—To see
how she took on, when Percy was torn from her! Well, well, she shall be
rescued from her tyrant. The moveable pannels—the subterraneous passages—the
secret springs well-known to me—Oh! I cannot fail of success: But in order
to secure it, I'll finally arrange my ideas in the Buttery. Whenever I've
any great design in hand, I always ask advice of a flaggon of ale, and
mature my plan over a cold venison-pasty. Oh! what an excellent genius
must that man have had, who first invented eating and drinking!
(Exit.)
[32]
SCENE III.—A spacious Chamber: On one Side is a Couch: on the other
a Table, which is placed under an arched and lofty Window.
Enter Osmond, followed by Saib, Hassan, Muley and Alaric, who conduct Percy disarmed.
OSM. This, Sir, is your prison; but, doubtless, your confinement will
not continue long. The moment which gives me Angela’s hand shall restore
you to liberty; and till that moment arrives, farewell.
PERCY. Stay, Sir, and hear me!—By what authority presume you
to call me captive!—Have you forgotten that you speak to Northumberland’s
Earl?
OSM. Well may I forget him, who could so far forget himself.
Was it worthy of Northumberland’s Earl to steal disguised into my Castle,
and plot with my servant to rob me of my most precious treasure?
PERCY. Mine was that treasure—You deprived me of it basely, and I was
justified in striving to regain my own.
OSM. Earl, nothing can justify unworthy means. If you were wronged,
why sought you not your right with your sword’s point? I then should
have esteemed you a noble foe, and as such would have treated you: But
you have stooped to paltry artifice, and attacked me like some midnight
ruffian, privately, and in disguise. By this am I authorized to forget
your station, and make your penance as degrading as your offence was base.
PERCY. If such are indeed your sentiments, prove [33] them now.
Restore my sword, unsheathe your own, and be Angela the conqueror's reward!
OSM. No, Earl Percy!—I am not so rash a gamester as to suffer
that cast to be recalled, by which the stake is mine already. Angela is
in my power: The only man who could wrest her from my arms, has wilfully
made himself my captive: Such he is, and such he shall remain.
PERCY. Insulting tyrant! Your cowardice in refusing my challenge
proves sufficiently—
OSM. Be calm, Earl Percy!—You forget yourself. That I am no coward,
my sword has proved in the fields of Scotland.—My sword shall again prove
it, if, when you are restored to liberty, you still question the courage
of my heart! Angela once mine, repeat your defiance, nor doubt my
answering.
PERCY. Angela thine?—That she shall never be! There are angels
above who favour virtue, and the hour of retribution must one day arrive!—(Throws
himself upon the couch.)
OSM. But long ere the arrival of that hour shall Angela have been my
bride; and now farewell, Lord Percy!—Muley and Saib!
BOTH. My Lord!
OSM. To your charge I commit the Earl; quit not his apartment, nor
suffer him for one moment from your sight.
SAIB AND MULEY. My Lord, we shall obey you.
OSM. (Aside.) If she refuse me still, the death of this, her favourite—his
death! Oh! through what bloody paths do I wander in pursuit of happiness!
Yes, I am guilty!—Heaven! how guilty! Yet lies the fault with me? Did my
own pleasure plant in my bosom these tempestuous passions? [34] No! they
were given me at my birth; they were sucked in with my existence! Nature
formed me the slave of wild desires; and Fate, as she frowned upon my cradle,
exclaimed, 'I doom this babe to be a villain and a wretch!' [2]
(Exit, followed by Hassan and Alaric, who lock the door after them.)
SAIB. Look, Muley, how bitterly he frowns!
MULEY. Now he starts from the sopha!—‘Faith, he’s in a monstrous fury!
SAIB. That may well be:—When you mean to take in other people, it certainly
is provoking to be taken in yourself.
PERCY. (After walking a few turns with a disordered air, suddenly stops.)
He is gone to Angela! Gone, perhaps, to renew that outrage whose
completion my presence alone prevented! Helpless and unprotected,
with no friend but innocence—no advocates save tears—how will she now repel
his violence?
MULEY. Now he's in a deep study:—Marry, if he studies himself out of
this Tower, he’s a cleverer fellow than I take him for.
PERCY. Were I not Osmond's captive, all might yet be well.
Summoning my vassals, who by this time must be near at hand, forcing the
Castle, and tearing Angela from the arms of her tyrant—Alas! my captivity
has rendered his [35] plan impracticable! Eternal curses upon Gilbert,
who persuaded me to adopt this artifice!—Curses on my own rash folly, which
has thrown me thus defenceless in the power of my foe!—
MULEY. That's right!—Another stamp or two, and the Tower comes rattling
about our ears.
PERCY. And are there then no hopes of liberty?
SAIB. He fixes his eyes on us.
PERCY. Might not these fellows—I can but try.—Now stand my friend,
thou master-key to human hearts!—Aid me, thou potent devil, gold!—Hear
me, my worthy friends!—Come nearer!
SAIB. His worthy friends! Are we such, Muley?
MULEY. Yes, truly we are—for friends in need are friends indeed—Marry,
if he were not in need, he would call us his mortal foes.
PERCY. My, good fellows, you are charged with a disagreeable
office, and to obey a tyrant’s mandates cannot be pleasant to you; there
is something in your looks which has prejudiced me too much in your favour
to believe it possible.
SAIB. Nay, there certainly is something in our appearance highly
prepossessing.
MULEY. And I knew that you must admire the delicacy of our complexions!
PERCY. The tincture of your skin, my good fellow, is of little
consequence: Many a worthy heart beats within a dusky bosom, and I am convinced
that such an heart inhabits yours; for your looks tell me that you feel
for, and are anxious to relieve, my sufferings.—See you this purse, my
friends?
MULEY. It's too far off, and I'm short-sighted.—If you'll put
it a little nearer—
PERCY. Restore me to liberty!—and not this purse alone, but ten times
its value shall be yours.
[36]
SAIB. To liberty?
MULEY. That purse?
SAIB. Muley!
MULEY. Saib!
PERCY. (Aside.) By all my hopes, they hesitate!—You well know, that
my wealth and power are equal, not to say superior, to Earl Osmond’s:—Release
me from my dungeon, and share that power and wealth!—On the events of today
depends my life's future happiness, nay perhaps my life itself: Judge then,
if you assist me, how great will be the service rendered me, and believe
that your reward shall equal my obligation.
SAIB. I know not what to answer.
MULEY. In truth, my Lord, your offers are so generous, and that purse
is so tempting—Saib, what say you?—(Winking to him.)
SAIB. The Earl speaks so well, and promises so largely, that
I own I'm strangely tempted—
MULEY. Look you, Saib; will you stand by me?
SAIB. (After a moment’s thought) I will!
MULEY. There's my hand then!—My Lord, we are your servants!
PERCY. This is beyond my hopes!—A thousand thanks, my worthy
fellows!—Be assured that the performance of my promises shall soon follow
the execution of yours.
SAIB. Of that we make no doubt.
PERCY. You agree then to release me?
MULEY. ‘Tis impossible to do otherwise; for I feel that pity, generosity,
and every moral feeling command me to trouble your Lordship for that purse.
PERCY. There it is!—And now unlock the door!
[37]
MULEY. (Chinking the purse.) Here it is!—And now I'm obliged to you.
As for your promises, my Lord, pray don't trouble yourself to remember
them, as I sha'n't trouble myself to remember mine.
PERCY. (Starting.) Ha!—What mean you?
SAIB. (Firmly.) Earl, that we are faithful!
MULEY. I wonder you didn't read that too in our amiable looks!
PERCY. What! Will you not keep your word?
MULFY. In good truth, No; we mean to keep nothing—except the purse.
PERCY. Perfidious villains!
SAIB. You mistake us, Sir;—we cannot be villains, for I, you know,
am your Lordship's 'worthy friend!'
MULEY. And I your Lordship's unworthy pensioner!
PERCY. Confusion!—To be made the jest of such rascals!
SAIB. Earl Percy, we are none!—but we should have been, could your
gold have bribed us to betray our master. We have but done our duty—you
have but gained your just reward; for they who seek to deceive others,
should ever be deceived themselves.
PERCY. Silence, fellow!—Leave me to my thoughts!—(Throwing himself
passionately upon the couch.)
MULEY. Oh! with all our hearts! We ask no better.
SAIB. Muley, we share that purse?
MULEY. Undoubtedly: Sit down, and examine its contents—(They seat themselves
on the floor in the front of the stage.)
[38]
PERCY. How unfortunate, that the only merit of these villains
should be fidelity!—No hope now is left! Angela is lost, and with
her my happiness!
CHORUS OF VOICES (Singing without.)
‘Sing Megen-oh! Oh! Megen-Ee!’
MULEY. Hark!—What's that?
SAIB. I'll see. (Mounting upon the table.)—This window is so
high—
MULEY. Here, here! Take this chair.— (Saib places the chair upon
the table, and thus lifts himself to a level with the window, which he
opens.)—
SONG AND CHORUS.
MOTLEY. (Singing without.) Sleep you, or wake you, Lady bright?
CHORUS. (Without.) Sing Megen-oh! Oh! Megen-Ee!
MOTLEY. Now is the fittest time for flight.
CHORUS. Sing Megen-oh! Oh! Megen-Ee!
MOTLEY. Know, from your tyrant father's power
Beneath the window of your tower
A boat now waits to set you free:
CHORUS. Sing Megen-oh! Oh! Megen-Ee!
Sing Megen-oh! Oh! Megen-Ee!
PERCY. (Who has half-raised himself from the couch during the latter
part of the Song, and listened attentively.)—Surely I know that voice!
MULEY. Now, what's the matter?
SAIB. A boat lies at the foot of the tower, and the fishermen
sing while they draw their nets.
PERCY. I could not be mistaken:—it was Gilbert!
SAIB. Hark! They begin again!—
SECOND STANZA.
MOTLEY. Though deep the stream, though high the wall,
CHORUS. Sing Megen-oh! Oh! Megen-Ee!
MOTLEY. The danger, trust me, Love, is small:
CHORUS. Sing Megen-oh! Oh! Megen-Ee!
[39]
MOTLEY. To spring below then never dread;
My arms to catch you shall be spread;
And far from hence you soon shall be,
CHORUS. Sing Megen-oh! Oh! Megen-Ee!
Sing Megen-oh! Oh! Megen-Ee!
PERCY. I understand him!—He bids me—Yet the danger—What course
shall I pursue?
MULEY. Pr'ythee, come down, Saib; I long to divide the purse—
SAIB. Stay a moment: one more stanza, and I'm with you.
Now, silence!
THIRD STANZA.MOTLEY. Fair Emma hushed her heart's alarms:
CHORUS. Sing Megen-oh! Oh! Megen-Ee!
MOTLEY. She sprang into her Lover's arms;
CHORUS. Sing Megen-oh! Oh! Megen-Ee!
MOTLEY. Unhurt she fell; then swift its way
The boat pursued without delay,
While Emma placed on Edgar's knee
Sang 'Megen-oh! Oh! Megen-Ee!'
CHORUS. Sing Megen-oh! Oh! Megen-Ee!
MULEY. Will you never quit that window?
SAIB. (Shutting it, and descending.) Here I am, and now for the
purse—(They resume their seats upon the ground; Saib opens the purse, and
begins to reckon the gold.)
PERCY. Yes, I must brave the danger—I will feign to sleep; and when
my gaolers are off their guard, then aid me, blest Providence!—(Extending
himself upon the couch.)
SAIB. Hold, Muley!—What if, instead of sharing the purse, we throw
for its contents? Here are dice.
MULEY. With all my heart:—And look! to pass our time better,
here's a bottle of the best sack in the Earl's cellar.
[40]
SAIB. Good! Good!—And now, be this angel for stake!—But,
first, what is our prisoner doing?
MULEY. Oh! He sleeps: Mind him not.—Come, come—Throw!
SAIB. Here goes—Nine!—Now to you.
MULEY. Nine too!—Double the stake.
SAIB. Agreed! and the throw is mine.—Hark! What noise?— (During
this dialogue, Percy has approached the table in silence; at the moment
that he prepares to mount it, Saib looks round, and Percy hastily throws
himself back upon the couch.)
MULEY. Oh!—Nothing, nothing!
SAIB. Methought I heard the Earl—
MULEY. Mere fancy!—You see he is sleeping soundly. Come, come—Throw!
SAIB. There then—Eleven!
MULEY. That's bad—Huzza!—Sixes!
SAIB. Plague on your fortune!—Come, Double or quits!
MULEY. Be it so, and I throw.—Zounds! Only Five!
SAIB. Then I think this hit must be mine.—Aces, by heavens!
MULEY. Ha! Ha! Ha! Your health, friend!
PERCY. (Who has again reached the table, mounted the chair, and, opening
the window, now stands at it, and signs to the men below.)—They see me,
and extend a cloth beneath the window!—‘Tis a fearful height!
SAIB. Do you mean to empty the bottle!—Come, come—Give it me.
MULEY. Take it, blunder-head!—(Saib drinks.)
PERCY. They encourage me to venture!—Now then, or never!—(Aloud.)
Angels of bliss, [41] protect me!—(He throws himself from the window.)
[3]
MULEY AND SAIB. (Starting at the noise.)—Hell and Furies!
SAIB. (Dashes down the bottle, and climbs to the window hastily, while
Muley remains below in an attitude of surprise.)—Escaped! Escaped!
PERCY, MOTLEY, &C. (Without.)—Huzza! huzza! huzza!
END OF THE SECOND ACT