Of brave Sir Malcolm, then Balarmo's lord;
But falling to decay, his servants seized
All that I had, and then turned me and mine-
Four helpless infants and their weeping mother
Out to the mercy of the winter winds.
A little hovel by the river's side

Received us; there hard labor, and the skill
In fishing, which was formerly my sport,
Supported life. Whilst thus we poorly lived,
One stormy night, as I remember well,
The wind and rain beat hard upon the roof;
Red came the river down, and loud and oft
The angry spirit of the water shrieked.
At the dead hour of night was heard the cry
Of one in jeopardy. I rose, and ran
To where the circling eddy of a pool,
Beneath the ford, used oft to bring within
My reach whatever floating thing the stream

Had caught. The voice was ceased; the person lost:
But looking sad and earnest on the waters,

By the moon's light I saw, whirled round and round,
A basket; soon I drew it to the bank,

And nestled curious there an infant lay.

Lady R.- Was he alive?

Pris. He was.

Lady R.-Inhuman that thou art!

How couldst thou kill what waves and tempests spared? Pris. I was not so inhuman.

Lady R.- Didst thou not?

Anna.- My noble mistress, you are moved too much: This man has not the aspect of stern murder;

Let him go on, and you, I hope, will hear

Good tidings of your kinsman's long-lost child.

Pris- The needy man who has known better days,

One whom distress has spited at the world,

Is he whom tempting fiends would pitch upon
To do such deeds as make the prosperous men

Lift up their hands, and wonder who could do them?
And such a man was I; a man declined,

Who saw no end of black adversity;

Yet, for the wealth of kingdoms, I would not

Have touched that infant with a hand of harm.

Lady R.- Ha! dost thou say so? Then perhaps he lives?

Pris.- Not many days ago he was alive.

Lady R.-O God of heaven! Did he then die so lately? Pris.- I did not say he died; I hope he lives.

Not many days ago these eyes beheld

Him, flourishing in youth, and health, and beauty.
Lady R.- Where is he now?
Pris.-Alas! I know not where.

Thou riddle, speak

Lady R.-O fate! I fear thee still.
Direct and clear, else I will search thy soul.

Anna.- Permit me, ever honored! keen impatience
Though hard to be restrained, defeats itself.-

Pursue thy story with a faithful tongue,

To the last hour that thou didst keep the child.

Pris. Fear not my faith, though I must speak my

shame.

Within the cradle where the infant lay

Was stowed a mighty store of gold and jewels;
Tempted by which we did resolve to hide,
From all the world, this wonderful event,

And like a peasant breed the noble child.

That none might mark the change of our estate

We left the country, traveled to the north,

Bought flocks and herds, and gradually brought forth
Our secret wealth. But God's all-seeing eye
Beheld our avarice, and smote us sore;
For one by one all our own children died,
And he, the stranger, sole remained the heir
Of what indeed was his. Fain then would I,
Who with a father's fondness loved the boy,
Have trusted him, now in the dawn of youth,
With his own secret; but my anxious wife,
Foreboding evil, never would consent.

Meanwhile the stripling grew in years and beauty;
And, as we oft observed, he bore himself

Not as the offspring of our cottage blood,
For nature will break out: mild with the mild,
But with the froward he was fierce as fire,
And night and day he talked of war and arms.

I set myself against his warlike bent;

But all in vain; for when a desperate band
Of robbers from the savage mountains came —

Lady R.- Eternal Providence! What is thy name?
Pris.- My name is Norval; and my name he bears.
Lady R.-'Tis he, 'tis he himself! It is my son!
O sovereign mercy! 'Twas my child I saw !
No wonder, Anna, that my bosom burned.

Anna.- Just are your transports; ne'er was woman's heart

Proved with such fierce extremes. High-fated dame!
But yet remember that you are beheld

By servile eyes; your gestures may be seen,
Impassioned, strange; perhaps your words o'erheard.
Lady R.-Well dost thou counsel, Anna; Heaven bestow
On me that wisdom which my state requires!

Anna.- The moments of deliberation pass,
This useful man

And soon you must resolve.

Must be dismissed in safety, ere my lord

Shall with his brave deliverer return.

Pris.- If I, amidst astonishment and fear, Have of your words and gestures rightly judged, Thou art the daughter of my ancient master; The child I rescued from the flood is thine.

Lady R. With thee dissimulation now were vain.

I am indeed the daughter of Sir Malcolm;

The child thou rescuedst from the flood is mine.

Pris.- Blest be the hour that made me a poor man! My poverty hath saved my master's house.

Lady R.-Thy words surprise me; sure thou dost not feign!

The tear stands in thine eye: such love from thee

Sir Malcolm's house deserves not, if aright

Thou told'st the story of thy own distress.

Pris.- Sir Malcolm of our barons was the flower; The fastest friend, the best, the kindest master;

But ah! he knew not of my sad estate,

After that battle, where his gallant son,

Your own brave brother, fell, the good old lord
Grew desperate and reckless of the world;
And never, as he erst was wont, went forth

To overlook the conduct of his servants.

By them I was thrust out, and them I blame;

May Heaven so judge me as I judged my master,

And God so love me as I love his race!

Lady R.- His race shall yet reward thee. On thy faith Depends the fate of thy loved master's house.

Rememberest thou a little lonely hut,

That like a holy hermitage appears

Among the cliffs of Carron?

Pris. I remember

The cottage of the cliffs.

Lady R.-'Tis that I mean;

There dwells a man of venerable age,

Who in my father's service spent his youth:
Tell him I sent thee, and with him remain,
Till I shall call upon thee to declare
Before the king and nobles what thou now
To me hast told. No more but this, and thou
Shalt live in honor all thy future days;
Thy son so long shalt call thee father still,
And all the land shall bless the man who saved

The son of Douglas, and Sir Malcolm's heir.

[Young Norval is brought in and questioned by Lady Randolph.]

Norval.- My name is Norval: on the Grampian hills

My father feeds his flocks; a frugal swain,

Whose constant cares were to increase his store,
And keep his only son, myself, at home.

For I had heard of battles, and I longed

To follow to the field some warlike lord:

And Heaven soon granted what my sire denied.

This moon, which rose last night, round as my shield,
Had not yet filled her horns, when, by her light,
A band of fierce barbarians, from the hills,
Rushed like a torrent down upon the vale,

Sweeping our flocks and herds. The shepherds fled
For safety and for succor. I alone,

With bended bow, and quiver full of arrows,
Hovered about the enemy and marked

The road he took, then hastened to my friends,
Whom, with a troop of fifty chosen men,

I met advancing. The pursuit I led,

Till we o'ertook the spoil-encumbered foe.

We fought and conquered. Ere a sword was drawn
An arrow from my bow had pierced their chief,
Who wore that day the arms which now I wear.
Returning home in triumph, I disdained.

The shepherd's slothful life; and having heard
That our good king had summoned his bold peers
To lead their warriors to the Carron side,
I left my father's house, and took with me

A chosen servant to conduct my steps

Yon trembling coward, who forsook his master.
Journeying with this intent, I passed these towers,
And Heaven-directed, came this day to do
The happy deed that gilds my humble name.

- Douglas.

OMER, (Gr. "Oμnpos ), a Greek poet, the accredited author of the Iliad and the Odyssey. The period at which he lived is altogether uncertain. Ancient writers place him anywhere between the twelfth and the seventh century before our era. Herodotus supposed him to have lived four hundred years before his time— that is, about 850 B.C. Seven or more Grecian cities claimed the honor of being his birthplace. The account which appears best entitled to credence, is that he was born near Smyrna, on the bank of the river Meles (whence he is often styled Melesigenes), that his youth and early manhood were passed on the Island of Chios (the modern Scio); that he traveled from place to place, reciting his poems wherever he could find an audience; and that at some