[_going._

_Raby._ [_holding him._] Douglas, hear me;
Thou hast nam'd a Roman husband; if she's false,
I mean to prove myself a Roman father. [_exit Douglas._
This marriage was my work, and thus I'm punish'd!

_Enter Elwina._

_Elw._ Where is my father? let me fly to meet him,
O let me clasp his venerable knees,
And die of joy in his belov'd embrace!

_Raby._ [_avoiding her embrace._] Elwina!

_Elw._ And is that all? so cold?

_Raby._ [_sternly._] Elwina!

_Elw._ Then I'm undone indeed! How stern his looks!
I will not be repuls'd, I am your child,
The child of that dear mother you ador'd;
You shall not throw me off, I will grow here,
And, like the patriarch, wrestle for a blessing.

_Raby._ [_holding her from him._]
Before I take thee in these aged arms,
Press thee with transport to this beating heart,
And give a loose to all a parent's fondness,
Answer, and see thou answer me as truly
As if the dread inquiry came from heaven,--
Does no interior sense of guilt confound thee?
Canst thou lay all thy naked soul before me?
Can thy unconscious eye encounter mine?
Canst thou endure the probe, and never shrink?
Can thy firm hand meet mine, and never tremble?
Art thou prepar'd to meet the rigid Judge?
Or to embrace the fond, the melting, father?

_Elw._ Mysterious Heaven! to what am I reserv'd!

_Raby._ Should some rash man, regardless of thy fame,
And in defiance of thy marriage vows,
Presume to plead a guilty passion for thee,
What would'st thou do?

_Elw._ What honour bids me do.

_Raby._ Come to my arms! [_they embrace._

_Elw._ My father!

_Raby._ Yes, Elwina,
Thou art my child--thy mother's perfect image.

_Elw._ Forgive these tears of mingled joy and doubt;
For why that question? who should seek to please
The desolate Elwina?

_Raby._ But if any
Should so presume, canst thou resolve to hate him,
Whate'er his name, whate'er his pride of blood,
Whate'er his former arrogant pretensions?

_Elw._ Ha!

_Raby._ Dost thou falter? Have a care, Elwina.

_Elw._ Sir, do not fear me: am I not your daughter?

_Raby._ Thou hast a higher claim upon thy honour;
Thou art Earl Douglas' wife.

_Elw._ [_weeps._] I am, indeed!

_Raby._ Unhappy Douglas!

_Elw._ Has he then complain'd?
Has he presum'd to sully my white fame?

_Raby._ He knows that Percy----

_Elw._ Was my destin'd husband;
By your own promise, by a father's promise,
And by a tie more strong, more sacred still,
Mine, by