_Sir Philip._ Oh, forbear! forbear!

_Handy, jun._ Excuse me, sir,--an alliance, it seems, is intended between our families, founded on ambition and interest. I wish it, sir, to be formed on a n.o.bler basis, ingenuous friendship and mutual confidence. That confidence being withheld, I must here pause; for I should hesitate in calling that man father, who refuses me the name of friend.

_Sir Philip._ [_Aside._] Ah! how shall I act?

_Handy, jun._ Is my demand unreasonable?

_Sir Philip._ Strictly just--But oh!--you know not what you ask--Do you not pity me?

_Handy, jun._ I do.

_Sir Philip._ Why then seek to change it into hate?

_Handy, jun._ Confidence seldom generates hate--Mistrust always.

_Sir Philip._ Most true.

_Handy, jun._ I am not impelled by curiosity to ask your friendship. I scorn so mean a motive. Believe me, sir, the folly and levity of my character proceed merely from the effervescence of my heart--you will find its substance warm, steady, and sincere.

_Sir Philip._ I believe it from my soul.--Yes, you shall hear my story; I will lay before your view the agony, with which this wretched bosom is loaded.

_Handy, jun._ I am proud of your confidence, and am prepared to receive it.

_Sir Philip._ Not here--let me lead you to the eastern part of the castle, my young friend--mark me: This is no common trust I repose in you; for I place my life in your hands.

_Handy, jun._ And the pledge I give for its security is, what alone gives value to life, my honour. [_Exeunt._

SCENE III.

_A gloomy Gallery in the Castle--in the centre a strongly barred door.--The gallery hung with portraits._

HENRY _discovered examining a particular portrait, which occupies a conspicuous situation in the gallery._

_Henry._ Whenever curiosity has led me to this gallery, that portrait has attracted my attention--the features are peculiarly interesting. One of the house of Blandford--Blandford---my name--perhaps my father. To remain longer ignorant of my birth, I feel impossible. There is a point when patience ceases to be a virtue--Hush! I hear footsteps--Ah! Sir Philip and another in close conversation. Shall I avoid them?--No--Shall I conceal myself, and observe them?--Curse on the base suggestion!--No--

_Enter_ SIR PHILIP _and_ HANDY, _jun._

_Sir Philip._ That chamber contains the mystery.

_Henry._ [_Aside._] Ah!

_Sir Philip._ [_Turning round._] Observe that portrait. [_Seeing_ HENRY--_starts._] Who's there?

_Handy, jun._ [_To_ HENRY.] Sir, we wish to be private.

_Henry._ My being here, sir, was merely the effect of accident. I scorn intrusion. [_Bows._] But the important words are spoken--that chamber contains the mystery. [_Aside.--Exit._

_Handy, jun._ Who is that youth?

_Sir Philip._ You there behold his father--my brother--[_Weeps._]--I've not beheld that face these twenty years.--Let me again peruse its lineaments. [_In an agony of grief._] Oh, G.o.d! how I loved that man!--

_Handy, jun._ Be composed.

_Sir Philip._ I will endeavour. Now listen to my story.

_Handy, jun._ You rivet my attention.

_Sir Philip._ While we were boys, my father died intestate. So I, as elder born, became the sole possessor of his fortune; but the moment the law gave me power, I divided, in equal portions, his large possessions, one of which I with joy presented to my brother.

_Handy, jun._ It was n.o.ble.

_Sir Philip._ [_With suppressed agony._] You shall now hear, sir, how I was rewarded. Chance placed in my view a young woman of superior personal charms; my heart was captivated--Fortune she possessed not--but mine was ample. She blessed me by consenting to our union, and my brother approved my choice.

_Handy, jun._ How enviable your situation!

_Sir Philip._ Oh! [_Sighing deeply._] On the evening previous to my intended marriage, with a mind serene as the departing sun, whose morning beam was to light me to happiness, I sauntered to a favourite tree, where, lover-like, I had marked the name of my destined bride, and, with every nerve braced to the tone of ecstasy, I was wounding the bark with a deeper impression of the name--when, oh, G.o.d!----

_Handy, jun._ Pray proceed.

_Sir Philip._ When the loved offspring of my mother, and the woman my soul adored--the only two beings on earth, who had wound themselves round my heart by every tie dear to the soul of man, placed themselves before me; I heard him--even now the sound is in my ears, and drives me to madness--I heard him breathe vows of love, which she answered with burning kisses--He pitied his poor brother, and told her he had prepared a vessel to bear her for ever from me.--They were about to depart, when the burning fever in my heart rushed upon my brain--Picture the young tiger, when first his savage nature rouses him to vengeance--the knife was in my gripe--I sprang upon them--with one hand I tore the faithless woman from his d.a.m.ned embrace, and with the other--stabbed my brother to the heart.

_Handy, jun._ The wretched woman----

_Sir Philip._ Was secretly conveyed here--even to that chamber.--She proved pregnant, and in giving birth to a son, paid the forfeit of her perjury by death. My task being ended, yours begins.

_Handy, jun._ Mine!

_Sir Philip._ Yes, that chamber contains evidence of my shame; the fatal instrument, with other guilty proofs, lie there concealed--can you wonder I dread to visit the scene of horror--can you wonder I implore you, in mercy, to save me from the task? Oh! my friend, enter the chamber, bury in endless night those instruments of blood, and I will kneel and worship you.

_Handy, jun._ I will.

_Sir Philip._ [_Weeps._] Will you? [_Embraces him._] I am unused to kindness from man, and it affects me. Oh! can you press to your guiltless heart that bloodstained hand!

_Handy, jun._ Sir Philip, let men without faults condemn--I must pity you. [_Exeunt_ HANDY, jun. _leading_ SIR PHILIP.

ACT THE FIFTH.

SCENE I.

_A wooded view of the country._

_Enter_ SUSAN ASHFIELD, _who looks about with anxiety, and then comes forward._