shield,
Will make old Raby still invincible. [_offers to draw._

_Dou._ Forbear.

_Raby._ Thou dost disdain my feeble arm,
And scorn my age.

_Dou._ There will be blood enough;
Nor need thy wither'd veins, old lord, be drain'd,
To swell the copious stream.

_Raby._ Thou wilt not kill her?

_Dou._ Oh, 'tis a day of horror!

_Enter Edric and Birtha._

_Edr._ Where is Douglas?
I come to save him from the deadliest crime
Revenge did ever meditate.

_Dou._ What meanest thou?

_Edr._ This instant fly, and save thy guiltless wife.

_Dou._ Save that perfidious--

_Edr._ That much-injur'd woman.

_Bir._ Unfortunate indeed, but O most innocent!

_Edr._ In the last solemn article of death,
That truth-compelling state, when even bad men
Fear to speak falsely, Percy clear'd her fame.

_Dou._ I heard him--'Twas the guilty fraud of love.
The scarf, the scarf! that proof of mutual passion,
Given but this day to ratify their crimes!

_Bir._ What means my lord? This day? That fatal scarf
Was given long since, a toy of childish friendship;
Long ere your marriage, ere you knew Elwina.

_Raby._ 'Tis I am guilty.

_Dou._ Ha!

_Raby._ I,--I alone.
Confusion, honour, pride, parental fondness,
Distract my soul,--Percy was not to blame,
He was--the destin'd husband of Elwina!
He loved her--was belov'd--and I approv'd.
The tale is long.--I chang'd my purpose since,
Forbad their marriage--

_Dou._ And confirm'd my mis'ry!
Twice did they meet to-day--my wife and Percy.

_Raby._ I know it.

_Dou._ Ha! thou knew'st of my dishonour?
Thou wast a witness, an approving witness,
At least a tame one!

_Raby._ Percy came, 'tis true,
A constant, tender, but a guiltless lover!

_Dou._ I shall grow mad indeed; a guiltless lover!
Percy, the guiltless lover of my wife!

_Raby._ He knew not she was married.

_Dou._ How? is't possible?

_Raby._ Douglas, 'tis true; both, both were innocent;
He of her marriage, she of his return.

_Bir._ But now, when we believ'd thee dead, she vow'd
Never to see thy rival. Instantly,
Not in a state of momentary passion,
But with a martyr's dignity and calmness,
She bade me bring the poison.

_Dou._ Had'st thou done it,
Despair had been my portion! Fly, good Birtha,
Find out the suffering saint--describe my penitence,
And paint my vast extravagance of fondness,
Tell her I love as never mortal lov'd--
Tell her I know her virtues, and adore them--
Tell her I come, but dare not