MARMADUKE One thing you noticed not: 
              Just as we left the glen a clap of thunder
              Burst on the mountains with hell-rousing force. 
              This is a time, said he, when guilt may shudder;
              But there’s a Providence for them who walk
              In helplessness, when innocence is with them. 
              At this audacious blasphemy, I thought
              The spirit of vengeance seemed to ride the air.

OSWALD Why are you not the man you were that moment?

[He draws MARMADUKE to the dungeon.]

MARMADUKE You say he was asleep,—­look at this arm,
              And tell me if ’tis fit for such a work. 
              Oswald, Oswald!
       [Leans upon OSWALD.]

OSWALD This is some sudden seizure!

MARMADUKE A most strange faintness,—­will you hunt me out
              A draught of water?

OSWALD Nay, to see you thus
              Moves me beyond my bearing.—­I will try
              To gain the torrent’s brink.

[Exit OSWALD.]

MARMADUKE (after a pause)
                                     It seems an age
              Since that Man left me.—­No, I am not lost.

HERBERT (at the mouth of the dungeon)
              Give me your hand; where are you, Friends? and tell me
              How goes the night.

MARMADUKE ’Tis hard to measure time,
              In such a weary night, and such a place.

HERBERT I do not hear the voice of my friend Oswald.

MARMADUKE A minute past, he went to fetch a draught
              Of water from the torrent.  ’Tis, you’ll say,
              A cheerless beverage.

HERBERT How good it was in you
              To stay behind!—­Hearing at first no answer,
              I was alarmed.

MARMADUKE No wonder; this is a place
              That well may put some fears into your heart.

HERBERT Why so? a roofless rock had been a comfort,
              Storm-beaten and bewildered as we were;
              And in a night like this, to lend your cloaks
              To make a bed for me!—­My Girl will weep
              When she is told of it.

MARMADUKE This Daughter of yours
              Is very dear to you.

HERBERT Oh! but you are young;
              Over your head twice twenty years must roll,
              With all their natural weight of sorrow and pain,
              Ere can be known to you how much a Father
              May love his Child.

MARMADUKE
              Thank you, old Man, for this! [Aside.]