SCENE III. The gate of the Town seer at some distance, as in Scene I.

GLANVILLE, an ADVOCATE, MAGISTRATE, &c.

Mag. Let us stop here. It is the wonted spot
Where ancient custom and our charter says,
We must do homage to the King's vicegerent,
And ask for Justice in the name of Heaven.
Glan. A little farther-nineteen years have pass'd,
Since we were wont to meet him at this place,
He may expect us, where we met last year.
Ado. It was a breach in your feudalities

To change the place.

Mag.

True, Sir, but the sad caus

Which chanc'd upon the morning of the change,

Gave us some warrantry.

Adv.

You did amiss

So to entrench on old prescribed tenures.

What was the cause?

Mag.

Upon that solemn day,

A hideous murder was committed here,

Whereby the ground was foul with clotted blood,

And most unfit for our solemnity.

The circumstance I do not well remember,

But Glanville may.

Glan.

Why, Sir, should I?

Mag. For you have ever with most constant kindness

Aided the widow of the hapless victim.

Alas, poor wretch! Grief has diseas'd her wit,

And but for him she were indeed forlorn.

Adv. I did observe her once, 'twas near this place,

And she appear'd so gaunt, and curs'd with spleen,
Blear'd in the eye, and blasted in the visage,
That all the reverence due to age forsook me,
And, as I look'd on her, methought her figure
Prov'd that the mind, and the external frame,
Fail, fade, and wither in companionship.
Could we but see, thought I, the soul of age,
We should a plain and true accordance find
In its affections with the alter'd features.-
The sharp and harsh projection of the bones,
Demonstrate pride and stern relentlessness;
The rheumy eye, wan Envy's master feature,
Proclaims the spite that grudges youthful pleasure ;
The downward look evinces sordid thoughts,
Searching the very dust as 'twere for geer;
Th' trem❜lous voice and shaking head denote
A graspless heart that hath forgone all love,
And hieroglyphics graven on the brow,
Long use of pityless arithmetic.

Glan. Forbear, young man! such fancies but insult
The course and purposes of Providence.

What though poor Isbel hath outliv'd your pity,
The time may come when you yourself shall know,
That e'en the power to pity quits the heart.
There is an epocha in human life,
When all men find their sympathies extinct.
In some the change by wayward fortune wrought,
Falls in the prime and vigor of their days;
But with the general throng of daily minds,
The wintry solitude of age prevails,

Before that sear and withering of the heart.

Adv. What causes think you, Sir, produce this change?

Glan. Sometimes the canker of ingratitude,

Gnaws out the fruitful germ of tenderness;

When, as the stifling ivy climbs the tree,

Barren misanthropy invests the heart;
Sometimes the blossom of our vernal hopes,
Like the bright hectic of a fated fair,
Allures to disappoint: When it is gone,
We have no courage to expect again,
Nor ever love aught worthy of a tear;—
The vampire vice too drains the bosom dry
Of Nature's kindness. But much more than these,
Is conscious guilt pernicious to our feelings,
Turning each thought, yea, ev'ry corporal sense,
All into one quick sentinel of accusation.
Hark!

Adv. "Tis the trumpet of the judge.
Glan.

[a trumpet heard.

He comes.

Mag. On you the task to give him welcome lies.
Glan. Let us advance then.

Mag.

Sir, it must be here,

This is th' appointed place. Why should we move?
Glan. You are peremptory. Well, be it here.
Adv. He cogitates a speech.

Mag.

Adv.

Stand back.

The Judge.

[Enter from one side the Judge attended. Isbel comes in at

the same time from the other.]

Mag. His Lordship waits for us, Sir; give him welcome, Glan. By old enactments of our ancient kings,

We are commanded, on this fatal spot,

In heaven's dread name to bid the judges enter,
And deal us justice without fee, or fear,
Of monarch or of man. Within our burgh,
Not in the King's, but in the name of God,
Tremendous Justice mounts her awful throne;
And Providence, as fam'd traditions tell,
Hath frequent there stood witness at the bar,

Confronting perjury that would destroy,

And proving guilt when far beyond all trace,
The links of human evidence had fail'd.

Therefore, my Lord, in Heaven's dread name we ask
Your righteous ministration.Isbel, here!

Jud. In Heavens dread name we do accept the trust. Isb. [aside] 'Tis he, 'tis he that did the deed of death. Jud. What is that woman, who with such a shriek Of thrilling exultation, mars the course

Of our appointed high solemnity.

Adv. A wretched maniac.

Jud.

Send her away.

Glan. Retire, good Isbel, you disturb our rites,

Pray thee retire, you do offend the Judge.

Jud.

Mag. 'Tis here, my Lord.

Isb.

Give me the list of all who are accus'd.

It wants, it has not all!

Alas, unhappy creature!

Jud. I know thee now.

How long shalt thou the same sad note repeat?

For many a year, still as the list was given,
She has this melancholy protest made.

Jud. Say, who against him brings this dreadful charge.

Jud. Still must her accusation be receiv'd,

It was for such as know not how to claim

With legal form and advocated plea
Redress of wrong, that we in public here,
Receive the list of all accus'd delinquents;
If to the list exception be not made,
The guilty unaccus'd henceforth are free.

Glan. She ne'er, my Lord, suspected me before.
Jud. Nor any else, but only did protest,
Asserting Providence would prove the charge,
Be not so mov'd, Sir, at this wild conceit,

Though charter'd law compels us to admit it.

Isb. Justice, Justice, in Heaven's dread name remember

Glan. It was, my Lord, a settled custom with me,

Upon the annual coming of this day,

Which still has been in all my life auspicious,

To bear myself a small benevolence

To this poor widow, as she mourning sat

Here on this spot, where her lov'd husband fell;

But by some lapse, some breach in my

I did to-day neglect that stated duty,

And for the failure she in spite accuses.

remembrance,

Isb. No, not for that, no, not for that, my Lord! Though by his punctual regulated kindness,

I thought he had a compact made with me

As sure as that which Heaven holds with the earth,
To give the reaping and the fruitage time.
And when he came not, I did think, 'tis true,
That he incurr'd, for the default he suffer'd,
A dreadful forfeit which I would exact,
But then I knew not that my words of passion
Were prompted by an oracle divine.

On to the hall and mount the seat of Justice.

Glan. O thou vindictive and ungrateful witch,
The source of kindness backward flows in thee,
Or thou would'st never recompense me thus.
Had she, in envy of my prosp'rous fortune,