_Raby._ Frenzy and poison!

_Dou._ Both a husband's gift; But thus I do her justice.

_As Douglas goes to stab himself, enter Elwina distracted, her hair dishevelled, Percy's scarf in her hand._

_Elw._ [_goes up to Douglas._]

What, blood again? We cannot kill him twice!

Soft, soft--no violence--he's dead already;-- I did it--Yes--I drown'd him with my tears; But hide the cruel deed! I'll scratch him out A shallow grave, and lay the green sod on it; Ay--and I'll bind the wild briar o'er the turf, And plant a willow there, a weeping willow-- [_she sits on the ground._ But look you tell not Douglas, he'll disturb him; He'll pluck the willow up--and plant a thorn.

He will not let me sit upon his grave, And sing all day, and weep and pray all night.

_Raby._ Dost thou not know me?

_Elw._ Yes--I do remember You had a harmless lamb.

_Raby._ I had indeed!

_Elw._ From all the flock you chose her out a mate, In sooth a fair one--you did bid her love it-- But while the shepherd slept, the wolf devour'd it.

_Raby._ My heart will break. This is too much, too much!

_Elw._ [_smiling._] O 'twas a cordial draught--I drank it all.

_Raby._ What means my child?

_Dou._ The poison! Oh the poison!

Thou dear wrong'd innocence--

_Elw._ Off--murderer, off!

Do not defile me with those crimson hands. [_shews the scarf._ This is his winding sheet--I'll wrap him in it-- I wrought it for my love--there--now I've drest him.

How brave he looks! my father will forgive him, He dearly lov'd him once--but that is over.

See where he comes--beware, my gallant Percy, Ah! come not here, this is the cave of death, And there's the dark, dark palace of Revenge!

See the pale king sits on his blood-stain'd throne!

He points to me--I come, I come, I come.

[_she faints, they run to her, Douglas takes up his sword and stabs himself._

_Dou._ Thus, thus I follow thee.

_Edr._ Hold thy rash hand!

_Dou._ It is too late. No remedy but this Could medicine a disease so desperate.

_Raby._ Ah, she revives!

_Dou._ [_raising himself._] She lives! bear, bear me to her!

We shall be happy yet.

[_he struggles to get to her, but sinks down._ It will not be-- O for a last embrace--Alas! I faint-- She lives--Now death is terrible indeed-- Fair spirit, I lov'd thee--O--Elwina! [_dies._

_Elw._ Where have I been? The damps of death are on me.

_Raby._ Look up, my child! O do not leave me thus!

Pity the anguish of thy aged father.

Hast thou forgot me?

_Elw._ No--you are my father; O you are kindly come to close my eyes, And take the kiss of death from my cold lips!

_Raby._ Do we meet thus?

_Elw._ We soon shall meet in peace.

I've but a faint remembrance of the past-- But something tells me--O those painful struggles!

Raise me a little--there-- [_she sees the body of Douglas._ What sight is that?

A sword, and b.l.o.o.d.y? Ah! and Douglas murder'd!

_Edr._ Convinc'd too late of your unequall'd virtues, And wrung with deep compunction for your wrongs, By his own hand the wretched Douglas fell.

_Elw._ This adds another, sharper pang to death.

O thou Eternal! take him to thy mercy, Nor let this sin be on his head, or mine!

_Raby._ I have undone you all--the crime is mine!

O thou poor injur'd saint, forgive thy father, He kneels to his wrong'd child.

_Elw._ Now you are cruel.

Come near, my father, nearer--I would see you, But mists and darkness cloud my failing sight.

O Death! suspend thy rights for one short moment, Till I have ta'en a father's last embrace-- A father's blessing.--Once--and now 'tis over.

Receive me to thy mercy, gracious Heaven! [_she dies._

_Raby._ She's gone! for ever gone! cold, dead and cold.

Am I a father? Fathers love their children---- I murder mine! With impious pride I s.n.a.t.c.h'd The bolt of vengeance from the hand of Heaven.

My punishment is great--but oh! 'tis just.

My soul submissive bows. A righteous G.o.d Has made my crime become my chastis.e.m.e.nt. [_exeunt._

THE END.

_Maurice, Fenchurch Street._

_London, 1819._

_The following Works,_

JUST PUBLISHED,

MAY BE HAD OF ALL BOOKSELLERS IN TOWN AND COUNTRY.