He galloped empty by. There is some treason. Pharamond If I have her not, By this hand, there shall be no more Sicily. Dion [aside] What, will he carry it to Spain in's pocket? I will not leave one man alive, but the King, King [aside] I see The injuries I have done must be revenged. Dion Sir, this is not the way to find her out. King Run all, disperse yourselves. The man that finds her, Or (if she be killed), the traitor, I'll make him great. Dion [aside]-I know some would give five thousand pounds to find her. Arethusa Another Part of the Forest. Enter ARETHUSA. Where am I now? Feet, find me out a way, O'er mountains, through brambles, pits, and floods. Bellario [aside] Enter BELLARIO. Yonder's my lady. Heaven knows I want You that have plenty! from that flowing store Is gone to guard her heart! See, the lively red I fear she faints. [Sits down. Madam, look up!-She breathes not. - Open once more Your latest farewell! Oh, she stirs. How is it, Arethusa "Tis not gently done, To put me in a miserable life, And hold me there: I prithee, let me go; I shall do best without thee; I am well. Enter PHILASTER. Philaster I am to blame to be so much in rage: I'll tell her coolly when and where I heard In speaking, and as just in hearing. Oh, monstrous! Tempt me not, ye gods! good gods, Bellario My lord, help, help! Arethusa I am well: forbear. Philaster [aside] Let me love lightning, let me be embraced Of basilisks, rather than trust the tongues Of hell-bred women! Some good god look down, Of this damned act!-Hear me, you wicked ones! Not to be quenched with tears; for which may guilt Arethusa Dear Philaster, leave To be enraged, and hear me. Philaster I have done, Forgive my passion. Not the calmèd sea, Is less disturbed than I: I'll make you know it. [Offers his drawn sword. Sirs, feel my pulse, whether you have known Bellario Alas, my lord, your pulse keeps madman's time! Bellario: thou hast done but that which gods Leave me without reply; this is the last Begone, Of all our meetings. [Exit BELLARIO.] Kill me with Be wise, or worse will follow: we are two Arethusa If my fortune be so good to let me fall No. Show me, then, the way. Philaster Then guide my feeble hand, You that have power to do it, for I must Perform a piece of justice! If your youth Have any way offended Heaven, let prayers Short and effectual reconcile you to it. Arethusa I am prepared. MARY'S ESCAPE FOILED. BY SIR WALTER SCOTT. (From "The Abbot." For biographical sketch, see page 2497.) [After Carberry Height and the flight of her husband, Bothwell, Queen Mary was imprisoned in the tiny isle of Lochleven in Kinross. The Protestant lords sent envoys to force her to sign her recantation. Except for Roland Graeme, the hero of the novel, who partly plays the rôle of the real Sir James Melville, the scene is historical.] WHEN Roland Graeme had finished his repast, having his dismissal from the Queen for the evening, and being little inclined for such society as the castle afforded, he stole into the garden, in which he had permission to spend his leisure time when it pleased him. In this place the ingenuity of the contriver and disposer of the walks had exerted itself to make the most of little space, and by screens, both of stone ornamented with rude sculpture and hedges of living green, had endeavored to give as much intricacy and variety as the confined limits of the garden would admit. Here the young man walked sadly, considering the events of the day, and comparing what had dropped from the Abbot with what he had himself noticed of the demeanor of George Douglas. "It must be so," was the painful but inevitable conclusion at which he arrived. "It must be by his aid that she is thus enabled, like a phantom, to transport herself from place to place, and to appear at pleasure on the mainland or on the islet. It must be so," he repeated once more; "with him she holds a close, secret, and intimate correspondence, altogether inconsistent with the eye of favor which she has sometimes cast upon me, and destructive to the hopes which she must have known these glances have necessarily inspired." And yet (for love will hope where reason despairs) the thought rushed on his mind that it was possible she only encouraged Douglas' passion so far as might serve her mistress' interest, and that she was of too frank, noble, and candid a nature to hold out to himself hopes which she meant not to fulfill. . The sun had now for some time set, and the twilight of May was rapidly falling into a serene night. On the lake the expanded water rose and fell, with the slightest and softest influence of a southern breeze, which scarcely dimpled the surface over which it passed. In the distance was still seen the dim outline of the island of Saint Serf, once visited by many a sandaled pilgrim, as the blessed spot trodden by a man of God now neglected or violated as the refuge of lazy priests, who had with justice been compelled to give place to the sheep and the heifers of a Protestant baron. As Roland gazed on the dark speck amid the lighter blue of the waters which surrounded it, the mazes of polemical discussion again stretched themselves before the eye of his mind. Had these men justly suffered their exile as licentious drones, the robbers, at once, and disgrace of the busy hive? or had the hand of avarice and rapine expelled from the temple, not the ribalds who polluted, but the faithful priests who served the shrine in honor and fidelity? The arguments of Henderson, in this contemplative hour, rose with double force before him, and could scarcely be parried by the appeal which the Abbot Ambrosius had made from his understanding to his feelings— an appeal which he had felt more forcibly amid the bustle of stirring life than now, when his reflections were more undisturbed. It required an effort to divert his mind from this |