_Sir Philip._ But, Emma, where is your Henry? I wish to be just to him--I wish to thank him. _Miss B._ He has withdrawn, to avoid our gratitude.-- _Everg._ No--he again rushed into the Castle, exclaiming, "I will penetrate that chamber, or perish in the attempt." _Sir Philip._ Then all is discovered. _Handy, jun._ Hush, for Heaven's sake collect yourself! _Enter_ HENRY, _in great agitation._ _Miss B._ Ah! [_Shrieks._] Thank Heaven, he's safe! What urged you, Henry, again to venture in the Castle? _Henry._ Fate! the desperate attempt of a desperate man! _Sir Philip._ Ah! _Henry._ Yes; the mystery is developed. In vain the massy bars, cemented with their cankerous rust, opposed my entrance--in vain the heated suffocating damps enveloped me--in vain the hungry flames flashed their vengeance round me! What could oppose a man struggling to know his fate? I forced the doors, a firebrand was my guide, and among many evidences of blood and guilt, I found--these! [_Produces a knife and bloody cloth._] _Sir Philip._ [_Starts with horror, then, with solemnity._] It is accomplished! Just Heaven, I bend to thy decree!--Blood must be paid by blood! Henry, that knife aimed by this fatal hand, murdered thy father! _Henry._ Ah! [_Grasping the knife._] _Miss B._ [_Placing herself between him and her father._] Henry! [_He drops his hand._] Oh, believe him not! 'Twas madness! I've heard him talk thus wildly in his dreams! We are all friends! None will repeat his words--I'm sure none will! My heart will break!--Oh, Henry! will you destroy my father? _Henry._ Would I were in my grave! _Enter_ GERALD. _Sir Philip._ Ah, Gerald here! How vain concealment! Well, come you to give evidence of my shame? _Gerald._ I come to announce one, who for many years has watched each action of your life. _Sir Philip._ Who? _Gerald._ Morrington. _Sir Philip._ I shall then behold the man who has so long avoided me---- _Gerald._ But ever has been near you--he is here. _Enter_ MORRINGTON, _wrapped up in his cloak._ _Sir Philip._ Well, behold your victim in his last stage of human wretchedness! Come you to insult me; [MORRINGTON _clasps his hands together, and hides his face._] Ah! can even you pity me? Speak--still silent--still mysterious--Well, let me employ what remains of life, in thinking of hereafter--[_Addressing Heaven._] Oh, my brother! we soon shall meet again--And let me hope, that, stripped of those passions which make men devils, I may receive the heavenly balm of thy forgiveness, as I, from my inmost soul, do pardon thee. [MORRINGTON _becomes convulsed with agony, and falls into_ GERALD'S _arms._] Ah! what means that agony? He faints! give him air! [_They throw open his cloak and hat._] [_Starts._] Angels of mercy! my brother! 'tis he! he lives! Henry, support your father!