ost man ; somewhat quick and fiery, but warm-hearted and generous, and whoever represeuts this part should bear these characteristics in mind and endeavor to embody them. Malcolm is a handsome, brave, stadions youth. Madeleine a fair, accomplished lovely girl, too much purity and loveliness cannot be imparted to this character.

COSTUMES.-James-green cloth over-shirt, high dark riding boots, sword and leather belt, Scotch bonnet, short staff in hand; Malcolin Young, a gray cloth shirt, long, black, arm-hole coat, student's cap. Madeleine, wbite, walered silk, trimmed with blue and cherry check. ers, plaid scarf, and a veil.)

SCENE—The lawn at Laichmont.

Enter MALCOLM YOUNG, with a book, R.

MAL. It tells me to forget the world;—forget!
Why tell me not to cease to live and think?
To struggle with my heart! Do I not struggle?
Have I not striven, and toiled, and wept, and prayed;
And all in vain !-oh, to be doomed to live
For self, apart from lite's soft charities-
No hope-no object! (reads.)

Enter behind, JAMES and MADELEINE, R.

“MADE. I have a mind to try “ To make him gay. Shall I put both my hands “ Before his eyes, and cry, Who blinds—who blinds ?

“ JAMES. He cannot miss the voice!

“MADE. Oh he's so dull, “ You shall not get a smile into his face, Nor smoothe his brow by all that you can do.

“ JAMES. Nay, I need hardly try, if you have failed. 6 But I can scarce believe there breathes the man, - The stock, the stone, that would not feel the power 6 Of words like yours. Why, the dull night as well

Might try to keep its gloom on, when the day
“ Laughs from the east. He must be cold as ice,
• Harder than steel, that melts not at such looks:
Try him again."

MADE. Oh, no! I scarce can venture :"
He looks with such sad melancholy eyes,
I almost grow as sorrowful as himself. (sighs.)

JAMES. Do you ?-I'll see what efforts I can make
To chase his sadness.

MADE. Do, and I'll be by
To aid you. Oh! I wish you had known him, Sir,

Before he thought of turning priest.

JAMES. A priest ! -
He's a good soldier spoilt. I'll speak to him.

MADE. And I'll wait here.

JAMES. Good morrow, master Young;
You look as if the thumps you gave the sculls
Of Buckie's band, lay heavy on your conscience.

MAL. No, Sir. I'm glad to see you in such case.

JAMES. I'm sorry to see you, Sir, in such case : You have no dint upon your head, I trust?

MAL. No.

JAMES. Then your trusty staff played sentinel To a good tune, and heartily I thank you.

MAL. No thanks.

JAMES. Yes, many thanks; thanks warm and true. I must pledge faith with you.

MAL. Oh, pardon, Sir, 'Twas nothing;

JAMES. And you won't shake hands with me?
MAL. Oh, willingly!

JAMES. Well, now we're plighted friends,
I cannot bear to see you moping thus.

MAL. Oh, Sir, it-I am very-
JAMES. Tush, man, tush !-
You're wretched-very wretched; what's the matter?
Is not your kinsman kind ?
MAL. Yes; he is kind.

JAMES. Have you no powerful friend to plead your cause, And raise you in the church?

MAL. I would not rise ; “I tell you, sir, I have no wish to rise;

Enough that I am in the church without

Being raised; I would not have a powerful friend “To plead my cause.

JAMES. Oh!

MAL. If Sir Adam Weir
Had deigned to ask my thoughts,-but no-no-no-
He used

the power, wrung from my poverty-
My orphan youth,—but I am wrong-most wrong-
I pray you ask no more, Sir, of my doings;.
It" I have served you, let your gratitude-
Though such I claim not, let it show itself
In silence. I would have my grief remain
In my own breast.

JAMES, Ah! but that were unkind
To friends like me: for, trust me, though so short
The date of our acquaintance, it has grown
At once to friendship.

MAL. But I know you not-
I never saw you till an hour ago.

JAMES. Oh !-so suspicious ? Look on me, my friend-
“See you a lurking devil in my eyes ?”
I tell you I would serve you if I could,
“And sympathy is all that I can offer.
6 Reject it not. I'm but a simple yeoman;
“ But I would know your grief, if happily
“ I might relieve it. If it come to the worst,
“I can but share it." Come, come! hide no more
The sorrow that consumes you. Bring the snake
Forth from the hole where it but gathers venom l-
Out on the sunny grass with the vile thing!
We'll stamp it into powder with our heels.

MAL. Why-1-I have no sorrow to reveal.

JAMES. You have. But if you trust not to my words, And scorn my friendship

MAL. Oh, forgive me, Sir; My heart was full. I do not scorn your friendship, “ God knows the name of friendship is too sweet “To be thrown by. Oh, Sir, your pardon!" Here Is my true hand. I thank you from my heart.

JAMES. Now, then, 'tis as I thought. You'll not repent
Your trusting me.

Mal. There's something in your eye
Moves confidence. I love the very sound
Of your bold voice. You have no gloomy thoughts
All's sunshine round, above, before you.

JAMES. Ah!
You know not-but-enough! Poor Malcolm Young !
Tell me what weighs so heavy on your heart.
MADE. (behind). Now I shall hear what makes poor

Malcolm sad.
MAL. Sir, 'tis but three weeks since that I came home-
Home! no, I dare not call it home,-came here;
After long tarrying at St. Andrew's school,
By order of my kinsman, “at the last
" A month since.—'tis one little month ago."

JAMES. Go on, go on !
MADE. (aside). Now comes the hidden grief.

MAL. He forced me, by deceitful messages,
To vow me to the priesthood, when my sonl
Longed more for neighing steeds than psalteries.
Oh, what a happy fortune had been mine
To draw the sword 'neath gallant James's eye,
And rouge it to the hilt in English blood !
JAMES. Heaven bless you, boy !-your hand again-your

hand !

Would you have served the king ?

MAL. Ay! died for him !

JAMES. And he'd have cherished you, believe me, boy, “ And held you in his heart, and trusted you“And you'd ha' been true brothers ;—for a love “ Like yours is what poor James has need of most.' Is this your grief?

MAL. Alas, my grief lies deeper ! “I might have bent me to my cruel fate, “ With pray’rs that our brave king find Scots as true “And worthier of his praise, than Malcolm Young." When I came back, I had not been a day 'Mid well-known scenes, in the remembered rooms, Till to my heart, my soul, the dreadful truth Was opened like a gulf; and I, fool! fool! To be so dull, so blind, I knew too late That I was wretched, miserable, doomed, Like Tantalus, to more than hellish painsTo feel, yet not to dare speak, or think; To love, and be a priest !

MADE. (aside). To love! to love! How strange this is !

JAMES. How found you this, poor friend? MAL. By throbbings at the heart, when I but heard Her whispered name; thoughts buried long ago Neath childish memories, we were children both, Rose up like armed phantoms from their grave, Waving me from them with their mailed hands! " I saw her, with the light of womanhood “Spread o'er the childish charms I loved so well, “I heard her voice, sweet with the trustful tones “She spoke with long ago, yet richer grown “ With the full burden of her ripened thoughts."

MADE. (aside). My head goes round, my heart will burst!

MAL. I saw
A world lie open-and an envious spell
Fencing it from me; day by day, I felt
Grief and the blackness of unsunn'd despair
Closing all round me.

JAMES. And the maiden's name?
MAL. Was Madeleine Weir. (MADELEINE recoils, and

leans for support on the side scene, L.) JAMES. (goes to MADELEINE). You're faint; you're dead

ly pale!
MADE. "I'is nothing,—twas a pain-a sudden pang
Shot through my head-but, I am better now.

MAL. She was not listening!
MADE. No; I heard nothing-nothing;

'Twill soon be gone. I pray you, leave me now
I'm strong, I'm strong! (she tries to walk, but sinks.)
Help, Malcolm! I am dying!
JAMES. (catching her ere she falls). Run, run for aid! and

come not back again; Perhaps she heard you. I will guard her here. Mal. Help, help! for Madeleine-—“help, Widow Barton!”

[Exit MALCOLM, R. JAMES. WE Madeleine-he's gone. MADE. Who? Malcolm gone? JAMES. Look not so wildly !

MADE. What was't I said ! Did he hear aught, “ or see me—how I fell ?" JAMES. No, no; he heard yon not-come, cheer you,

lady, What can I say to cheer her ? Droop not so, There shall come happier days.

Made. Oh! never, never!

JAMES. Ay, but there shall, tho?! “Gather up your heart, * And brace you for a struggle with your grief. 6. What! hopelessness sit on a brow like this ;. “ And sorrow blight the roses on these lips ?” I tell you, do not sigh, poor Madeleine; I tell you—nay, I lay command on you. Start not that I command, I tell you, hope ! By heaven! I'd trample on all laws in the world That bring such sorrow.

MADE. Oh, Sir, by your voice
I guess how kind you are!

JAMES. Ay, kind and true,
And you shall never know me aught than kind,
So, cheer you, Madeleine !

“MADE. Oh, Sir, I'm weak!
“A moment with myself would strengthen me,
66 I think I'm better now.

“ JAMES.” Come, lean on me!
MADE. No, no; I'd be alone!

JAMES. Then droop not, girl ;
'Tis a black night that lets no starlight through;
And so I leave you. (aside) Ah, I see it all!
A hapless pair that knew not their own hearts,
And pay the forfeit of their ignorance
In tears.

[E.cit, L.
MADE. For me !—for me i-and I the while,
So giddy-cruel-ne'er to see his love
Was other than in days of our glad youth!
And blinder, colder, ne'er to feel that here,
In my deep, inmost heart, there was enshrined