Till then, I will not trespass on your presence,
But in just confidence, await your pleasure.

[Exit ALASCO.

WALSINGHAM (to AMANTHA.)

Hast thou belied the beauty of thy life,

And dared to disobey me?

AMANTHA.

O no- never!

Never, as Heaven is witness, has this heart
Once fail'd in love or duty to my father.

WALSINGHAM.

Ha! beware! I cannot doubt Alasco.

Thou art his wife !-by Heaven, thou art his wife !Deny it not-thy burning cheek betrays thee.

Hear me, my father!

AMANTHA.

WALSINGHAM.

Away! thou hast deceived me!

Thy angel mother's image in thy face,

Has lost its charm, and pleads for thee in vain.

AMANTHA.

Oh! to that much-loved mother's hallowed shade,

I here appeal, to vindicate her child.

It was her living wish-her dying will—

On her death-bed, she join'd our trembling hands—
With her last breath, bestow'd the nuptial blessing.

WALSINGHAM.

Beyond forgiveness blacken not thy fault.

Thy mother!

She was my soul's sweet refuge from a world
Where I have been hardly used.

AMANTHA.

Then hear, my father!

O! as you prized her virtues --loved her name,-
With patience hear, and judge her blameless child.—
Thou wert far distant-death approach'd so near,
We look'd, aghast and breathless, for the blow.
In that sad hour, when only in her fears,
The mother lived-when anxious for her child,
And trembling for her safety and her faith,
She, in Alasco's tried attachment sought
A shield for both, that she might die in peace.
The cherish'd purpose of thy heart towards him,
She long had known, and scrupled not, what seemed
Anticipation merely of thy will.

WALSINGHAM.

Most true. That thought I nourish'd in my breast,
And like a serpent, now it stings me there.
You may retire, Amantha.--Let the Friar

Be summon'd instantly-I must speak with him.

If I suspect this tale a stratagem,
Play'd off by crafty Jerome's enginery,
To bind the fair Amantha to his faith,

And aid Alasco's views.

WALSINGHAM.

I cannot think it.

With all a soldier's prejudice to priests,
I own myself subdued by Jerome's virtues.

HOHENDAHL.

It were a wise precaution, to remove

Your daughter to the castle. There secure,
(As this young man, by force or fraud, I fear,
May seek to gain possession of her person)
You may at leisure meditate, how best

To meet this exigence.

WALSINGHAM.

I apprehend

No danger from Alasco.

"Though fallen off,

"I fear, from loyalty, yet in his heart

"The seeds of honor are too deeply sown,
"For sudden extirpation. Vice must wear
"Some specious mask of virtue, to seduce him."
But we must sift this matter. Walsingham
Will never calmly see the blood he boasts,

Thus mingled with a traitor's.

[Exeunt.

END OF THE FIRST ACT.

ACT II.-SCENE I.

The retired part of a Forest, at the close of Evening.

Enter ALASCO and CONRAD.

ALASCO.

No! to be cold in such a cause as this,

Were cowardice, my friend, and not discretion.
"But what has roused them from their lethargy?
"Dismayed and prostrate at the foot of power,
"Their hearts seem'd dead within them.

CONRAD.

Stunn'd a while,

"I grant you, by the blow; but our state quacks
"Have plied them with a course of stimulants,
"And so they throb again; their discipline

"Has lashed us into life, and now our swords
"Give sign of animation."

And eager for the field?

ALASCO.

Armed, you say?

CONRAD.

Charged like a mine,

And ready to explode. There's not a man of them

But holds the faith, that Poland's rights depend

Upon his sword.

ALASCO.

Your sanguine spirit, Conrad,

Always outruns the promise of events—

Provoking fortune. "But why have you so long

"Conceal'd their movements from me?

"I know you think me rash-impetuous-
"Prompt to set sail with any wind that blows-
"Unballasted, and without chart or compass..
"But here I've used some caution, and observed
"A more deliberate policy, to prove

"The ship sea-worthy, ere my friend embark'd.

66

ALASCO.

Discretion, Conrad, sits not easy on you:

"It is too cold a virtue for

your use.

"I trust, however, your ardour has not sought

"In spirits sluggish and insensible,

"To stir revolt, to unavailing ruin."