Pa. I breakfast at nine o'clock; take a cup of coffee, and one or two cups of tea, a couple of eggs, and a bit of ham or kippered salmon, or, may be, both, if they 're good, and two or three rolls and butter.

Dr. Do you eat no honey, or jelly, or jam, at breakfast?
Pa. O, yes, sir! but I don't count that as any thing.

Dr. Come, this is a very moderate breakfast. What kind of dinner do you make?

Some soup,

Pa. O, sir, I eat a very plain dinner, indeed. and some fish, and a little plain roast or boiled; for I dinna care for made dishes; I think, some way, they never satisfy the appetite.

Dr. You take a little pudding, then, and afterwards some cheese?

Pa. O, yes! though I don't care much about them.

Dr. You take a glass of ale or porter with your cheese?
Pa. Yes, one or the other; but seldom both.

Dr. You west-country people generally take a glass of Highland whiskey after dinner.

Pa. Yes, we do; it's good for digestion.

Dr. Do you take any wine during dinner?

Pa. Yes, a glass or two of sherry; but I'm indifferent as to wine during dinner. I drink a good deal of beer.

Dr. What quantity of port do you drink?

Pa. O, very little; not above half a dozen glasses or so. Dr. In the west-country, it is impossible, I hear, to dine without punch?

Pa. Yes, sir: indeed, 't is punch we drink chiefly; but, for myself, unless I happen to have a friend with me, I never take more than a couple of tumblers or so, and that's moderate.

Dr. O, exceedingly moderate, indeed! You then, after this slight repast, take some tea and bread and butter?

Pa. Yes, before I go to the counting-house to read the evening letters.

take supper, I

Dr. And on your return you suppose? Pa. No, sir, I canna be said to tak supper; just something before going to bed; a rizzered haddock, or a bit of toasted cheese, or a half-hundred of oysters, or the like o' that, and, may be, two thirds of a bottle of ale; but I tak no regular supper.

Dr. But you take a little more punch after that?

Pa. No, sir, punch does not agree with me at bedtime. I tak a tumbler of warm whiskey-toddy at night; it is lighter to sleep on.

Dr. So it must be, no doubt. This, you say, is your everyday life; but, upon great occasions, you perhaps exceed a little? Pa. No, sir, except when a friend or two dine with me, or I dine out, which, as I am a sober family man, does not often happen.

Dr. Not above twice a week?

Pa. No; not oftener.

Dr. Of course you sleep well, and have a good appetite? Pa. Yes, sir, thank Heaven, I have; indeed, any ill health that I have is about meal-time.

Dr. (Rising with a severe air - the PATIENT also rises.) Now, sir, you are a very pretty fellow, indeed! You come here and tell me you are a moderate man; but, upon examination, I find, by your own showing, that you are a most voracious glutton. You said you were a sober man; yet, by your own showing, you are a beer-swiller, a dram-drinker, a wine-bibber, and a guzzler of punch. You tell me you eat indigestible suppers, and swill toddy to force sleep. I see that you chew tobacco. Now, sir, what human stomach can stand this? Go home, sir, and leave your present course of riotous living, and there are hopes that your stomach may recover its tone, and you be in good health, like your neighbors.

Pa. I'm sure, doctor, I'm very much obliged to you. (Taking` out a bundle of bank-notes.) I shall endeavor to →→

Dr. Sir, you are not obliged to me: - put up your money, sir. Do you think I'll take a fee for telling you what you know as well as myself? Though you're no physician, sir, you are not altogether a fool. Go home, sir, and reform, or, take my word for it, your life is not worth half a year's purchase. Pa. Thank you, doctor, thank you. Good-day, doctor.

(Exit, R., followed by DOCTOR.)

Glenalvon. (Aside.) His port I love: he's in a proper mood

To chide the thunder, if at him it roared.

(Aloud.) Has Norval seen the troops?
Norval. The setting sun

With yellow radiance lightened all the vale,
And as the warriors moved, each polished helm,
Corslet, or spear, glanced back his gilded beams.

NORVAL.

The hill they climbed, and, halting at its top,
Of more than mortal size, towering they seemed
A host angelic, clad in burning arms.

Glen. Thou talk'st it well; no leader of our host
In sounds more lofty talks of glorious war.

Norv. If I should e'er acquire a leader's name,
My speech will be less ardent. Novelty

Now prompts my tongue, and youthful admiration
Vents itself freely; since no part is mine

Of praise pertaining to the great in arms.

258

Glen. You wrong yourself, brave sir; your martial deeds Have ranked you with the great. But mark me, Norval, Lord Randolph's favor now exalts your youth

Above his veterans of famous service.

Let me, who know these soldiers, counsel you.
Give them all honor: seem not to command,

Else they will hardly brook your late-sprung power,
Which nor alliance props nor birth adorns.

Noro. Sir, I have been accustomed, all my days,
To hear and speak the plain and simple truth;
And though I have been told that there are men
Who borrow friendship's tongue to speak their scorn,
Yet in such language I am little skilled;
Therefore I thank Glenalvon for his counsel,
Although it sounded harshly. Why remind
Me of my birth obscure? Why slur my power
With such contemptuous terms?

Glen. I did not mean

To gall your pride, which now I see is great.
Norv. My pride!

Glen. Suppress it, as you wish to prosper;
Your pride's excessive. Yet, for Randolph's sake,
I will not leave you to its rash direction.

If thus you swell, and frown at high-born men,
Will high-born men endure a shepherd's scorn?
Norv. A shepherd's scorn! (Crosses, L.)
Glen. (R.) Yes, if you presume

To bend on soldiers those disdainful eyes
As if you took the measure of their minds,

And said in secret, You're no match for me,

What will become of you?

Norv. Hast thou no fears for thy presumptuous self?

Glen. Ha! dost thou threaten me?

Norv. Didst thou not hear?

Glen. Unwillingly I did; a nobler foe

Had not been questioned thus; but such as thou-
Norv. Whom dost thou think me?

Glen. Norval.

Norv. So I am

And who is Norval in Glenalvon's eyes?

Glen. A peasant's son, a wandering beggar boy; At best no more, even if he speaks the truth.

Norv. False as thou art, dost thou suspect my truth? Glen. Thy truth! thou 'rt all a lie; and basely false Is the vain-glorious tale thou told'st to Randolph.

Norv. If I were chained, unarmed, or bedrid old, Perhaps I should revile; but, as I am,

I have no tongue to rail. The humble Norval

Is of a race who strive not but with deeds. (Crosses, R.)
Did I not fear to freeze thy shallow valor,

And make thee sink too soon beneath my sword,

I'd tell thee-what thou art. I know thee well.

Glen. (L.) Dost thou not know Glenalvon born to command Ten thousand slaves like thee?

Norv. Villain, no more!

Draw and defend thy life. I did design

To have defied thee in another cause;

But heaven accelerates its vengeance on thee.

Now for my own and Lady Randolph's wrongs!

(Both draw their swords.)

Enter LORD RANDOLPH, R.

Lord Randolph. Hold! I command you both! the man that

stirs

Makes me his foe.

Norv. (C.) Another voice than thine

That threat had vainly sounded, noble Randolph.

Glen. Hear him, my lord; he 's wondrous condescending!

Mark the humility of shepherd Norval!

Norv. Now you may scoff in safety.

Lord R. (R.) Speak not thus,

Taunting each other, but unfold to me

The cause of quarrel; then I judge betwixt you.

Norv. Nay, my good lord, though I revere you much,
My cause I plead not, nor demand your judgment.
I blush to speak: and will not, can not speak
The opprobrious words that I from him have borne.
To the liege lord of my dear native land

SEEKING SERVICE.

I owe a subject's homage; but even him
And his high arbitration I'd reject!
Within my bosom reigns another lord-
Honor! sole judge and umpire of itself.
If my free speech offend you, noble Randolph,
Revoke your favors, and let Norval go

Hence as he came; alone but not dishonored!

Lord R. Thus far I'll mediate with impartial voice;
The ancient foe of Caledonia's land

Now waves his banner o'er her frighted fields;

Suspend your purpose till your country's arms
Repel the bold invader; then decide

The private quarrel.

Glen. I agree to this.

Norv. And I.

Glen. Norval,

255

(LORD R. retires up.)

Let not our variance mar the social hour,
Nor wrong the hospitality of Randolph.
Nor frowning anger, nor yet wrinkled hate,

Shall stain my countenance. Smooth thou thy brow;
Nor let our strife disturb the gentle dame.

Norv. Think not so lightly, sir, of my resentment;
When we contend again, our strife is mortal.

(Exeunt LORD R., GLEN., NORV., L.)

Thomas. Here's a man, sir, come after the footman's place. Bull. I hope he is more civil than the last fellow. Does he seem modest?

Thomas. O, yes, sir; he's an Irishman.

Bull. Well, we are used to them in the Bull family. Let me see him. (Exit THOMAS, L.) I hope I shall be able to keep a servant, at last. They are all so provokingly saucy to me, because I have been a grocer.

Enter LOONEY MACTWOLTER, L.

So you want a place!

Looney. You may say that, with your own ugly mouth! Bull. My ugly mouth! You have been in service before?