y for the fatal combat,
He call'd his chosen knights, then drew his sword,
And on it made them swear a solemn oath,
Confirm'd by every rite religion bids,
That they would see perform'd his last request,
Be it whate'er it would. Alas! they swore.

_Elw._ What did the dreadful preparation mean?

_Bir._ Then to their hands he gave a poison'd cup,
Compounded of the deadliest herbs and drugs;
Take this, said he, it is a husband's legacy;
Percy may conquer--and--I have a wife!
If Douglas falls, Elwina must not live.

_Elw._ Spirit of Herod! Why, 'twas greatly thought!
'Twas worthy of the bosom which conceiv'd it!
Yet 'twas too merciful to be his own.
Yes, Douglas, yes, my husband, I'll obey thee,
And bless thy genius which has found the means
To reconcile thy vengeance with my peace,
The deadly means to make obedience pleasant.

_Bir._ O spare, for pity spare, my bleeding heart:
Inhuman to the last! Unnatural poison!

_Elw._ My gentle friend, what is there in a name?
The means are little where the end is kind.
If it disturb thee, do not call it poison;
Call it the sweet oblivion of my cares,
My balm of woe, my cordial of affliction,
The drop of mercy to my fainting soul,
My kind dismission from a world of sorrow,
My cap of bliss, my passport to the skies.

_Bir._ Hark! what alarm is that?

_Elw._ The combat's over! [_Birtha goes out._

[_Elwina stands in a fixed attitude, her hands clasped._

Now, gracious heaven, sustain me in the trial,
And bow my spirit to thy great decrees!

_Re-enter Birtha._

[_Elwina looks stedfastly at her without speaking._

_Bir._ Douglas is fallen.

_Elw._ Bring me the poison.

_Bir._ Never.

_Elw._ Where are the knights? I summon you--approach!
Draw near, ye awful ministers of fate,
Dire instruments of posthumous revenge!
Come--I am ready; but your tardy justice
Defrauds the injur'd dead.--Go, haste, my friend,
See that the castle be securely guarded,
Let every gate be barr'd--prevent his entrance.

_Bir._ Whose entrance?

_Elw._ His--the murderer of my husband.

_Bir._ He's single, we have hosts of friends.

_Elw._ No matter;
Who knows what love and madness may attempt?
But here I swear by all that binds the good,
Never to see him more.--Unhappy Douglas!
O if thy troubled spirit still is conscious
Of our past woes, look down, and hear me swear,
That when the legacy thy rage bequeath'd me
Works at my heart, and conquers struggling nature,
Ev'n in th