Doug. Traitor, no more. This letter shows thy office.
Twice hast thou robb'd me of my dear revenge.
I took thee for thy leader. — Thy base blood
Would stain the noble temper of my sword.
But as the pander to thy master's lust
Thou justly fall'st by a wrong'd husband's hand.
Har. Thy wife is innocent.
Doug. Take him away.
Har. Percy, revenge my fall!
Doug. Now for the letter!
He begs once more to see her — so 'tis plain
They have already met! — but to the rest —
" In vain you wish me to resture the searf,
Dear pledge of love, while I have life I'll wear it;
'Tis next my heart; no pow'r shall force it thence.
Whene'er you see it in another's hand
Conclude me dead. " — My curses on them both!
How tamely I peruse my chame! But thus,
Thus let me tear the guilty characters
Which register my infamy: and thus,
Thus would I scatter to the winds of heav'n
The vile complotters of my foul dishonour.

Ed. My lord —
Doug. The scarf!
Ed. Lord Douglas.
Doug. Yes, the scarf!
Percy, I thank thee for the glorious thought!
I'll cherish it; 'twill sweeten all my pangs,
And add a keener relish to revenge!
Ed. My lord!
Doug. How, Edric here?
Ed. What new distress?
Doug. Dost thou expect I should recount my shame?
Dwell on each circumstance of my disgrace,
And swell my infamy into a tale;
Till the comb the scorn of ev'ry fool,
And branded as a weak, believing husband?
Rage will not let me. — But — my wife is faise.
Ed. Art thou convinc'd?
Doug. The chronicles of hell
Cannot produce a falser. But what news
Of her curs'd paramour?
Ed. He has escap'd.
Doug. Hast thou examin'd ev'ry avenue?
Each spot? the grove? the bower, her fav'rite haunt?
Ed. I've search'd them all!
Doug. He shall be yet pursued.
Set guards at ev'ry gate. — Let none depart,
Or gain admittance here without my knowledge.
Ed. What can their purpose be?
Doug. Is it not clear?
Harcourt has rais'd his arm against my life.
He fail'd the blow is now reserv'd for Percy;
Then with his sword, fresh reeking from my heart,
He'll revel with that wanton o'er my tomb;
Nor will he bring her nuglit she'll hold so dear
As the curs'd hand with which he slew her husband.
But he shall die! I'll drown my rage in blood!
Yes! here I do devote the forfeit blood
Of him my soul abhors, a rich illution
On thy infernal altar, black revenge!

El. Each avenue is so beset with guards,
And lyux-eyed jealousy so broad awake,
He cannot pass unseen. Protect him, Heav'n!

My Birtha is he safe? Has he escap'd?
Bir. I know not. I despatch'd young Harcourt straight,
To bid him quit the castle, as you order'd,
Restore the scarf, and never see you more.
But how the hard injunction was receiv'd,
Or what has happen'd since, I'm yet to learn.
El. O when shall I be ens'd of all my cares,
And in the quiet bosom of the grave
Lay down this weary head? — I'm sick at heart!
Should Douglas intercept his flight!
Bir. Be calm;
Douglas this very moment left the castle
With seeming peace.
El. Ah, then indeed there's danger!
Birtha, whene'er suspicion feigns to sleep,
'Tis but to make its careless prey secure.
Bir. Should Percy once again entreat to see thee,
'Twere best admit him; from thy lips alone
He will submit to hear his final doom
Of everlasting exile.
El. Birtha, no:
If honour would allow the wife of Douglas
To meet his rival, yet I durst not do it.
Percy! too much this rebel heart is thine:
Too deeply should I feel each pang I gave!
I cannot hate — but I will banish thee,
Inexorable duty, O forgive
If I can do no more!
Bir. If he remains,
As I suspect, within the castle walls,
'Twere best I sought him out.
El. Then tell him, Birtha,
But, oh! with gentleness, with mercy tell him,
That we must never, never meet again.
The purport of thy tale must be severe,
Most strong and absolute the prohibition;
But let thy tenderness embalm the wound
My virtue gives. O soften his despair;
But say we meet no more.

Per. I will be heard; nay, fly not! I will speak;
Lost as I am, I will not be denied
The mournful consolation to complain.
El. Percy, I charge thee, leave me.
Per. Tyrant, no:
I blush at my obedience, blush to think
I left thee here alone, to brave the danger
I now return to share.
El. That danger's past:
Douglas was soon appeas'd; he nothing knows.
Then leave me, I conjure thee, nor again
Endanger my repose. Yet, ere thou goest,
Restore the scarf.
Per. Unkind Elwinn, never;
'Tis all that's left me of my buried joys;
All which reminds me that I once was happy.
My letter told thee I would ne'er restore it.
El. Letter? what letter?
Per. That I sent by Harcourt.
El. Which I have ne'er receiv'd. Douglas perhaps —
Who knows?
Bir. Harcourt, t' clude his watchfulness,
Might prudently retire.
El. Grant Heav'n, it prove so!
Per. Hear me, Elwinn, the most savage honour
Forbids not that poor grace.
El. It bids me fly thee.
Per. Then ere thou go'st, if we indeed must part,
To soothe the horrors of eternal exile,
Say but — thou pitiest me!
El. O Percy — pity thee!
Imperious honour! — surely I may pity him.
Yet, wherefore pity? no, I envy thee;
For thou hast still the liberty to weep;
In thee 'twill be no crime; thy tears are guiltless,
For they infringe no duty, stain no honour,
And blot no vow; but mine are criminal,
Are drops of shame which wash the cheek of guilt,
And every tear I shed dishonours Douglas.
Per. I swear my jealous love e'en grudges thine
Thy sad pre-eminence in wretchedness.
El. Rouse, rouse, my slumb'ring virtue! Percy, hear me.
Heaven, when it gives such high-wrought souls as thine,
Still gives as great occasions to exert them.
If thou wast form'd so noble, brave, and gen'rous,
'Twas to surmount the passions which enslave
The gross of human kind. — 'Tis their low boast
To yield to trials thou art call'd to conquer.
Criterion of great souls! Then think, O think,
She, whom thou once didst love, is now another's.
Per. Go on — and tell me that that other's Douglas.
El. Whate'er his name, he claims respect from me:
His honour's in my keeping, and I hold
The trust so pure, its sanctity is hurt
E'en by thy presence.
Per. Thou again hast conquer'd,
Celestial Virtue, like the angel-spirit,
Whose flaming sword defended Paradise,
Stands guard on ev'ry charm. Elwinn, yes,
To triumph over Douglas, we'll be virtuous.
El. 'Tis not enough to he, — we must appear so:
High minds disdain the shadow of offence,
Nor must their whiteness wear the hue of guilt.
Per. I shall retract — I dare not gaze upon thee;
My feeble virtue staggers, and again
The fiends of jealousy torment and haunt me.
They tear my heart-strings. — — Oh!
El. Percy! no more;
But spare my injur'd honour the affront
To vindicate itself.
Per. But love!
El. But glory!
Per. Enough! a ray of thy sublimer spirit
Has warm'd my dying honour to a flame!
One effort, and 'tis done. The world shall say,
When they shall speak of my disastrous love,
Percy deserv'd Elwina though he lost her.
Fond tears blind me not yet! a little longer,
Let my sad eyes a little longer gaze,
And leave their last beams here.
El. I do not weep.
Per. Not weep! Then why those eyes avoiding mine?
And why that broken voice? Those trembling accents?
That sigh which rends my soul?
El. No more, no more
Per. That pang decides it. Come — I'll die at once;
Thou Power Supreme! take all the length of days,
And all the blessings kept in store for me,
And add to her account. Yet turn once more,
One little look, one last, short glimpse of day,
And then a long dark night. Hold, hold, my heart.
O break not yet, while I behold her sweetness;
For after this dear tender, mournful, moment,
I shall have nothing more to do with life.
El. I pray thee go?
Per. 'Tis terrible to nature!
With pangs like these the soul and body part!
And thus, but oh! with far less agony,
The dying wretch still grasps to hold his being,
Thus clings to life, thus dreads the dark unknown,
Thus struggles to the last to keep his hold;
And when the last convulsive groan of death
Dislodges the sad spirit — thus it stays,
Thus fondly hovers o'er the form it lov'd.
Once, and no more — farewell, farewell!
El. For ever!
'Tis past — the conflict's past! retire, my Birtha,
I would address me to the throne of grace.
Bir. May Heav'n restore that peace thy bosom wants!
El. Look down, thou awful, heart-inspecting Judge,
Look down with mercy on thine erring creature,
And teach my soul the lowliness it needs!
That genuine penitence vouchsafe to give,
That inward purity of heart and life,
Which mourns the past offence, and shuns the future!
And if some and remains of human weakness
Should sometimes mingle with my best resolves,
O breathe thy spirit on this wayward heart,
And teach me to reject th' intrading sin,
In its first birth of thought!
What noise is that?
The clash of swords! Should Douglas be return'd?

Doug. Yield, villain, yield.
Per. Not till this good right arm
Shall fail its master.
Doug. This to thy heart then.
Per. Defend thy own.
Doug. Confusion, death, and hell!
Ed. This way I heard the noise.
Per. Curs'd treachery!
But dearly will I sell my life.
Doug. Seize on him.
Per. I'm taken in the toils.
Doug. In the curs'd snare
Thou Iaidst for me, traitor, thyself art caught.
El. He never sought thy life.
Doug. Adult'ress, peace!
The villain Harcourt too — but he's at rest.
Per. Douglas, I'm in thy power; but do not triumph.
Percy's betray'd, not conquer'd. Come, despatch me.
El. O do not, do not kill him!
Per. Madam, forbear;
For by the glorious shades of my great fathers,
Their godlike spirit is not so extinct,
That I should owe my life to that vile Scot.
Though dangers close me round on every side,
And death besets me — I am Percy still.
Doug. Sorceress, I'll disappoint thee — he shall die;
Thy minion shall expire before thy face;
Yes, I will feast my hatred with your pangs;
And maice his dying groans and thy fond tears
A banquet for my vengeance.
El. Savage tyrant!
I would have fallen a silent sacrifice,
So thou had'st spared my fame: I never wrong'd thee.
Per. She knew not of my coming; I alone
Have been to blame — spite of her interdiction,
I hither came. She's pure as spotless saints.
El. I will not be excused by Percy's crime;
So white my innocence, it does not ask
The shade of others' faults to set it off;
Nor shall he need to sully his fair fame,
To throw a brighter lustre round my virtue.
Doug. Yet he can only die — but death for honour!
Ye powers of hell, who take malignant joy
In human bloodshed, give me some dire means,
Wild as my hate, and desperate as my wrongs!
Per. Enough of words. Thou know'st I hate thee. Douglas;
'Tis stedfast, fix'd, hereditary hate,
As thine for me; our fathers did bequeath it,
As part of our unalienable birthright,
Which nought but death can end. Come, end it here.
El. Hold, Douglas, hold! not for myself! kneel,
I do not plead for Percy, but for thee;
Arm not thy hand against thy future peace;
Spare thy brave breast the tortures of remorse, —
Stain not a life of unpolluted honour,
For, oh! as surely as thou strik'st at Percy,
Thou wilt for ever stab the fame of Douglas.
Per. Finish the bloody work.
Doug. Then take thy wish.
Per. Why dost thou start?
Doug. Her scarf upon his breast!
The blasting sight converts me into stone;
Withers my powers like cowardice or age;
Curdles the blood within my shiv'ring veins,
And paisies my bold arm.
Per. Hear you, his friends;
Bear witness to the glorious, great exploit,
Record it in the annals of his race;
That Douglas — the renown'd, the valiant Douglas,
Fenc'd round with guards, and safe in his own castle,
Surpris'd a knight unarm'd, and bravely slew him.
Doug. 'Tis true — I am the very stain of knighthood.
How is my glory dimm'd!
El. It blazes brighter!
Douglas was only brave — he now is generous!
Per. This action has restor'd thee to thy rank,
And makes thee worthy to contend with Percy.
Doug. Thy joy will be us short as 'tis insulting.
And thou, imperious boy, restrain thy boasting,
Thou hast sav'd my honour, not remov'd my hate;
For my soul lonthes thee for the obligation.
Give him his sword.
Par. Now thou'rt a noble foe,
And in the field of honour I will meet thee,
As knight encountering knight.
El. Stay, Percy, stay,
Strike at the wretched cause of all, strike here;
Here sheathe thy thirsty sword, but spare my husband.
Doug. Turn, madam, and address those vows to me,
To spare the precious life of him you love.
Ev'n now you triumph in the death of Douglas;
Now your loose fancy kindles at the thought,
And wildly rioting in lawless hope,
Indulges in th' adultery of the mind.
But I'll defeat that wish. Guards, bear her in.
Nay, do not struggle.
Per. Let our deaths suffice,
And reverence virtue in that form enshrin'd.
Doug. Provoke my rage no farther. I have kindled
The burning torch of never-dying vengeance
At love's expiring lamp. But mark me, friends,
If Percy's happier genius should prevail,
And I should fall, give him safe conduct hence;
Be all observance paid him. Let him meet
Th' exactest courtesy which knighthood owes.
Within I've something for thy private ear.
Per. Now shall this mutual fury be appeased!
These eager hands shall soon be drenched in slaughter!
Yes — like two famish'd vultures snuffing blood,
And panting to destroy, we'll rush to combat:
Yet I've the deepest, deadliest cause of hate;
I am but Percy, thou'rt — Elwina's husband.