s it stays,
And fondly hovers o'er the form it lov'd.
Once and no more--farewell, farewell!

_Elw._ For ever!

[_they look at each other for some time, then exit Percy.
After a pause;_

'Tis past--the conflict's past! retire, my Birtha,
I would address me to the throne of grace.

_Bir._ May Heaven restore that peace thy bosom wants! [_exit Birtha._

_Elw._ [_kneels._] Look down, thou, awful, heart-inspecting Judge,
Look down with mercy on thy erring creature,
And teach my soul the lowliness it needs!
And if some sad remains of human weakness
Should sometimes mingle with my best resolves,
O breathe thy spirit on this wayward heart,
And teach me to repent th' intruding sin
In it's first birth of thought!
[_Noise within._] What noise is that?
The clash of swords! should Douglas be return'd!

_Enter Douglas and Percy, fighting._

_Dou._ Yield, villain, yield!

_Per._ Not till this good right arm
Shall fail its master.

_Dou._ This to thy heart, then.

_Per._ Defend thy own. [_they fight; Percy disarms Douglas._

_Dou._ Confusion, death, and hell!

_Edr._ [_without_] This way I heard the noise.

_Enter Edric, and many Knights and Guards, from every
part of the stage._

_Per._ Cursed treachery!
But dearly will I sell my life.

_Dou._ Seize on him.

_Per._ I'm taken in the toils.
[_Percy is surrounded by Guards, who take his sword._

_Dou._ In the cursed snare
Thou laid'st for me, traitor, thyself art caught.

_Elw._ He never sought thy life.

_Dou._ Adulteress, 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, dispatch me.

_Elw._ [_to Douglas_] 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.

_Dou._ Sorceress, I'll disappoint thee--he shall die,
Thy minion shall expire before thy face,
That I may feast my hatred with your pangs,
And make his dying groans, and thy fond tears,
A banquet for my vengeance.

_Elw._ Savage tyrant!

I would have fallen a silent sacrifice,
So thou had'st spar'd 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 sain