_An Apartment in the Castle._
SIR PHILIP BLANDFORD _discovered on a couch, reading_, SERVANTS
_attending._
_Sir Philip._ Is not my daughter yet returned?
_Serv._ No, Sir Philip.
_Sir Philip._ Dispatch a servant to her. [_Exit_ SERVANT.
_Re-enter_ SERVANT.
_Serv._ Sir, the old gardener is below, and asks to see you.
_Sir Philip._ [_Rises and throws away the book._] Admit him instantly,
and leave me.-- [_Exit_ SERVANT.
_Enter_ EVERGREEN, _who bows, then looking at_ SIR PHILIP, _clasps his
hands together, and weeps._
Does this desolation affect the old man?--Come near me--Time has laid a
lenient hand on thee.
_Everg._ Oh, my dear master! can twenty years have wrought the change I
see?
_Sir Philip._ No; [_Striking his breast._] 'tis the canker here that
hath withered up my trunk;--but are we secure from observation?
_Everg._ Yes.
_Sir Philip._ Then tell me, does the boy live?
_Everg._ He does, and is as fine a youth--
_Sir Philip._ No comments.
_Everg._ We named him--
_Sir Philip._ Be dumb! let me not hear his name. Has care been taken he
may not blast me with his presence?
_Everg._ It has, and he cheerfully complied.
_Sir Philip._ Enough! never speak of him more. Have you removed every
dreadful vestige from the fatal chamber? [EVERGREEN _hesitates._]--O
speak!
_Everg._ My dear master! I confess my want of duty. Alas! I had not
courage to go there.
_Sir Philip._ Ah!
_Everg._ Nay, forgive me! wiser than I have felt such terrors.--The
apartments have been carefully locked up; the keys not a moment from my
possession:--here they are.
_Sir Philip._ Then the task remains with me. Dreadful thought! I can
well pardon thy fears, old man.--O! could I wipe from my memory that
hour, when--
_Everg._ Hush! your daughter.
_Sir Philip._ Leave me--we'll speak anon. [_Exit_ EVERGREEN.
_Enter_ MISS BLANDFORD.
_Miss B._ Dear father! I came the moment I heard you wished to see me.
_Sir Philip._ My good child, thou art the sole support that props my
feeble life. I fear my wish for thy company deprives thee of much
pleasure.
_Miss B._ Oh no! what pleasure can be equal to that of giving you
happiness? Am I not rewarded in seeing your eyes beam with pleasure on
me?
_Sir Philip._ 'Tis the pale reflection of the lustre I see sparkling
there.--But, tell me, did your lover gain the prize?
_Miss B._ Yes, papa.
_Sir Philip._ Few men of his rank--
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