MARMADUKE
                               I have been much deceived.

OSWALD But sure he loves the Maiden, and never love
              Could find delight to nurse itself so strangely,
              Thus to torment her with inventions!—­death—­
              There must be truth in this.

MARMADUKE Truth in his story! 
              He must have felt it then, known what it was,
              And in such wise to rack her gentle heart
              Had been a tenfold cruelty.

OSWALD Strange pleasures
              Do we poor mortals cater for ourselves! 
              To see him thus provoke her tenderness
              With tales of weakness and infirmity! 
              I’d wager on his life for twenty years.

MARMADUKE We will not waste an hour in such a cause.

OSWALD Why, this is noble! shake her off at once.

MARMADUKE Her virtues are his instruments.—­A Man
              Who has so practised on the world’s cold sense,
              May well deceive his Child—­what! leave her thus,
              A prey to a deceiver?—­no—­no—­no—­
              ’Tis but a word and then—­

OSWALD Something is here
              More than we see, or whence this strong aversion? 
              Marmaduke!  I suspect unworthy tales
              Have reached his ear—­you have had enemies.

MARMADUKE Enemies!—­of his own coinage.

OSWALD That may be,
              But wherefore slight protection such as you
              Have power to yield? perhaps he looks elsewhere.—­
              I am perplexed.

MARMADUKE What hast thou heard or seen?

OSWALD No—­no—­the thing stands clear of mystery;
              (As you have said) he coins himself the slander
              With which he taints her ear;—­for a plain reason;
              He dreads the presence of a virtuous man
              Like you; he knows your eye would search his heart,
              Your justice stamp upon his evil deeds
              The punishment they merit.  All is plain: 
              It cannot be—­

MARMADUKE
               What cannot be?

OSWALD Yet that a Father
              Should in his love admit no rivalship,
              And torture thus the heart of his own Child—­

MARMADUKE Nay, you abuse my friendship!

OSWALD Heaven forbid!—­
              There was a circumstance, trifling indeed—­
              It struck me at the time—­yet I believe
              I never should have thought of it again
              But for the scene which we by chance have witnessed.