And let them, like an angel's arm, unseen

Arrest the lifted sword.

BUTLER.

It is too late.

I suffer not myself to feel compassion,
Dark thoughts and bloody are my duty now :
(grasping Gordon's hand.)

Gordon! 'Tis not my hatred (I pretend not
To love the Duke, and have no cause to love him)
Yet 'tis not now my hatred that impels me

To be his murderer. 'Tis his evil fate.
Hostile concurrences of many events
Control and subjugate me to the office.
In vain the human being meditates

Free action. He is but the wire-worked puppet
Of the blind power, which out of his own choice
Creates for him a dread necessity.

What too would it avail him, if there were
A something pleading for him in my heart-
Still I must kill him.

GORDON.

If your heart speak to you,

Follow its impulse. 'Tis the voice of God.

Think you your fortunes will

grow prosperous

Bedewed with blood-his blood? Believe it not!

* We doubt the propriety of putting so blasphemous a senti

ment in the mouth of any character. T.

BUTLER.

You know not. Ask not! Wherefore should it happen,
That the Swedes gained the victory, and hasten
With such forced marches hitherward? Fain would I
Have given him to the Emperor's mercy.-Gordon!
I do not wish his blood-But I must ransom
The honour of my word-it lies in pledge—
And he must die, or—————

(passionately grasping Gordon's hand.)
Listen then, and know!

I am dishonoured if the Duke escape us.

GORDON.

O! to save such a man

BUTLER.

What!

GORDON.

It is worth

A sacrifice.-Come, friend! Be noble-minded!
Our own heart, and not other men's opinions,
Forms our true honour.

BUTLER (with a cold and haughty air).

He is a great Lord,

This Duke and I am but of mean importance.
This is what you would say? Wherein concerns it
The world at large, you mean to hint to me,
Whether the man of low extraction keeps
Or blemishes his honour-

So that the man of princely rank be saved.
We all do stamp our value on ourselves.

The price we challenge for ourselves is given us.
There does not live on earth the man so stationed,
That I despise myself compared with him.

Man is made great or little by his own will;
Because I am true to mine, therefore he dies.
GORDON.

I am endeavouring to move a rock.

Thou hadst a mother, yet no human feelings.
I cannot hinder you, but may some God

Rescue him from you!

[Exit Gordon.

SCENE IX.

BUTLER (alone).

I treasured my good name all my life long;
The Duke has cheated me of life's best jewel,
So that I blush before this poor weak Gordon!
He prizes above all his fealty;

His conscious soul accuses him of nothing;
In opposition to his own soft heart
He subjugates himself to an iron duty.
Me in a weaker moment passion warped;
I stand beside him, and must feel myself

The worse man of the two.

What, though the world

Is ignorant of my purposed treason, yet

One man does know it, and can prove
High-minded Piccolomini!

it too

There lives the man who can dishonour me!
This ignominy blood alone can cleanse!

Duke Friedland, thou or I-Into my own hands

Fortune delivers me-' -The dearest thing a man has is

himself.

(The curtain drops.)

ACT IV.-SCENE I.

SCENE-Butler's Chamber.

BUTLER, MAJOR, and GERALDIN.
BUTLER.

Find me twelve strong Dragoons, arm them with pikes,

For there must be no firing

Conceal them somewhere near the banquet-room,
And soon as the desert is served up, rush all in
And cry-Who is loyal to the Emperor?
I will overturn the table-while you attack
Illo and Tertsky, and dispatch them both.
The castle-palace is well barred and guarded,
That no intelligence of this proceeding

May make its way to the Duke.-Go instantly;
Have you yet sent for Captain Devereux

And the Macdonald?

GERALDIN.

They'll be here anon.
[Exit Geraldin.

BUTLER.

Here's no room for delay. The citizens