Taunting each other, but unfold to me

The cause of quarrel; then I judge betwixt you.

Norv. Nay, my good lord, though I revere you much, My cause I plead not, nor demand your judgment.

I blush to speak: I will not, cannot speak,

The opprobrious words that I from him have borne.
To the liege lord of my dear native land
I owe a subject's homage: but even him
And his high arbitration, I'd reject.
Within my bosom reigns another lord;
Honor, sole judge and umpire of itself.
If my free speech offend you, noble Randolph,
Revoke your favors, and let Norval go

Hence as he came, alone, but not dishonored!

Lord Ran. Thus far I'll mediate with impartial voice ;

The ancient foe of Caledonia's land

Now waves his banner o'er her frighted fields;

Suspend your purpose till your country's arms
Repel the bold invader; then decide
The private quarrel.

Glen. I agree to this.

Norv. And I.

Glen. Norval,

Let not our variance mar the social hour,

Nor wrong the hospitality of Randolph.
Nor frowning anger, nor yet wrinkled hate,

Shall stain my countenance. Smooth thou thy brow;
Nor let our strife disturb the gentle dame.

Norv. Think not so lightly, sir, of my resentment;
When we contend again; our strife is mortal.

HOME.

THE DUKE OF CARINTHIA AND HUON.

Duke. My lord, send Huon to me. Question not,
Advise me not. He marries, or he dies. (Exit Ulrick.)
Life spent to waste! My pride become my shame!
For this I rear'd her-rear'd to tow'ring thoughts.
A gasp of being only left, and that

To sigh that being has been spent in vain
For her, last shoot of an illustrious tree!

I loved my serf, was vain of him, and made
My vanity to smile through his deserts;
And now, their light is cloud to all my hopes.
Through my own pride my high aspirings fall.
They shall not fall!

To love my child

Good bye to ruth! He dares

to cover her I grudged

Surrender of those could boast estate

He comes,

I see! The passion, never yet

I dream'd of, stares upon me, in his look,

His air, his gait. "Tis dead or he must die! (Sits.)

[Enter Huon.]

Huon!

Huon. My lord?

Duke. I have been thinking of thee.

Huon. My lord is ever good.

Duke. I have a notion

"T would profit thee to marry.

Huon. Marry!

Duke. Yes.

Huon. I first must love.

Duke. And hast thou never loved?

Why art thou silent? Wherefore holds thy tongue
Its peace, and not thy cheek?

Huon. My cheek!

Duke. It talks!

A flush pass'd o'er it as I spoke to thee:
And now it talks again—and on the ground

Thou cast'st thine eye.

Thou art in love already.

"Thou first must love" - My friend,
Art thou not?

Art thou not, Huon? - Never mind, but keep

Thy secret. I have fixed that thou shalt marry.

Huon. My lord ·

Duke. (Interrupting him.) I know it will advantage thee,

And I have look'd around my court to find

A partner for thee, and have lit on one.

Huon. (Most earnestly.) My lord

Duke. (Interrupting him again.) She has beauty, Huon, she has wealth;

And what doth qualify her better still

As of unequal matches discords grow –

She's of thy own class, Huon, she is a serf. (Rises.)
Huon. (Impetuously.) My lord

Duke. (Interrupting indignantly.) My serf! How

Now? Wouldst thou rebel?

Huon. Rebel, my lord?

Duke. I trust I was deceived!

I did not see defiance in thine eye,

And hear it on thy tongue! Thou wouldst not dare
So much as harbor wish to thwart thy lord,

Much less intent? Thou know'st him! know'st thyself!

Thou may'st have scruples-that thou canst not help;

But thou canst help indulging them in the face

Of thy lord's will. And so, as 'tis my will

Thou marry straight, and I have found thy match,

I'll draw a paper up, where thou shalt make

The proffer of thy hand to Catherine,

And thou shalt sign it, Huon. (Sits at the table and writes.)

Huon. That I were dead!

O, what is death compared to slavery!

Brutes may bear bondage- they were made for it,
When Heaven set man above them! but no mark,
Definite and indelible, it put

Upon one man to mark him from another,

That he should live his slave. O heavy curse!
To have thought, reason, judgment, feelings, tastes,
Passions, and conscience, like another man,

And not have equally liberty to use them,
But call his mood his master! Why was I born
With passion to be free — with faculties

To use enlargement with desires that cleave
To high achievements — and with sympathies
Attracting me to objects fair and noble,—

And yet with power over myself as little

As any beast of burden? Why should I live?
There are of brutes themselves that will not tame,
So high in them is nature; whom the spur
And lash, instead of curing, only chafe

Into prouder mettle; — that will let you kill them,
Ere they will suffer you to master them.
I am a man, and live!

Duke. Here, Huon, sign,
And Catherine is your wife.
Huon. I will not sign.
Duke. How now, my serf!

Huon. My lord, I am a man ;

And, as a man, owe duty higher far

Than that I owe to thee, which Heaven expects

That I discharge. Didst thou command me murder,

Steal, commit perjury, or even lie,—

Should I do it, though a serf? No! To espouse her,

Not loving her, were murder of her peace.

I will not sign for that! With like default,
To compass mastery of her effects,

Were robbery. I will not sign for that!

To swear what I must swear to make her mine,

Were perjury at the very altar. Therefore
I will not sign! To put forth plea of love,
Which not a touch of love bears witness to,
Were uttering a lie. And so, my lord,

My lord, my master, ask me not to sign!

My sweat, my blood, use without sparing; but
Leave me my heart - a miserable one

Although it be !

Coerce me not in that,

To make me do the thing my heart abhors!

I beg no more!

Duke. Huon, I love thee well;

And would not do thee harm unless compell'd.

Thou shouldst not play with me, and shalt not. Take,
Therefore, thy choice - death, or the paper.

Huon. Death!

Duke. Thou makest thy mind up quickly, in a strait.
Huon. I do not wish to live. Set here thy point;

'Tis right against my heart!
The more the kinder!

Press firm and straight;

Duke. As thou wishest death,

I will not kill thee for thy disobedience.
An hour I grant for calm reflection. Use it.
If, on the lapse of that brief space, I find

The

page without addition, thou may'st learn That even slavery hath its degrees,

Which makes it sometimes sweet. Our felons throng
The galleys; but 'tis hard, or we shall find

A bench and oar for thee. (Exit.)

Huon. My lord, come back!

My lord! What now my mind, be sure 'twill be

At the end of the hour! of the day! of my life! - My lord!
He does not hear, or will not. Most sweet cause
Of most insufferable misery.
Wouldst thou not weep at this?

Couldst thou look on,

And keep pride sitting in thy woman's eye —