A TRAGEDY
27
'Mid those who bless me not:—I shall not then—
But silent be my tongue. (Weeps.)
ROSA.
(Morton comes from the bottom of the stage.)
God grant they comfort you!—I must withdraw:
His wary faithfulness mistrusts my love,
But I am not offended.(Offering to retire.)
HELEN.
Say what thou hast to say, my worthy Morton,
For Rosa is as faithful as thyself.
MORTON.
Dress'd like a fisher peasant, did I see
The Lord of Lorne, your brother.
HELEN.
The Lord of Lorne, my brother?—Thou'rt deceiv'd.
MORTON.
His noble form and stately step I knew
Before he spoke.