_Or._ Think I have lodg'd a secret in thy breast On which my peace, my fame, my all depends: Long have I struggled with the fatal truth, And scarce have dared to breathe it to myself; For, oh, too surely the first downward step, The treacherous path that leads to guilty deeds, Is to make sin familiar to the thoughts. [_Exit._ _Ber._ Am I awake?--No: 'tis delusion all! My wildest wishes never soar'd to this; Fortune anticipates my plot: he loves her, Loves just whom I would have him love--loves Julia! Orlando, yes, I'll play thee at my will: Poor puppet! thou hast trusted to my hand The strings by which I'll move thee to thy ruin, And make thee, too, the instrument of vengeance, Of glorious vengeance, on the man I hate. [_Exit._ ACT II. _Enter_ JULIA _and_ EMMELINA. _Jul._ How many cares perplex the maid who loves! Cares which the vacant heart can never know. You fondly tremble for a brother's life; Orlando mourns the absence of a friend, Guildford is anxious for a son's renown. In my poor heart your various terrors meet, With added fears and fonder apprehensions: They all unite in me, I feel for all,-- His life, his fame, his absence, and his love: For he may live to see his native home, And he may live to bless a sister's hopes, May live to gratify impatient friendship, May live to crown a father's house with honour, May live to glory, yet be dead to love. _Em._ Forbear these fears; they wound my brother's honour: Julia, a brave man must be ever faithful; Cowards alone dare venture to be false; Cowards alone dare injure trusting virtue, And with bold perjuries affront high heaven. _Jul._ I know his faith, and venerate his virtues; I know his heart is tender as 'tis brave: That all his father's worth, his sister's softness, Meet in his generous breast--and yet I fear---- Who ever lov'd like me, and did not fear? _Enter_ GUILDFORD. _Guild._ Where are my friends, my daughter where is Julia? How shall I speak the fulness of my heart? My son, my Rivers, will this day return. _Em._ My dearest brother! _Jul._ Ha! my Rivers comes! Propitious heaven! _Em._ And yet my Julia trembles. _Jul._ Have I not cause? my Rivers comes! but how? I dread to ask, and yet I die to hear. My lord--you know the terms---- _Guild._ He comes a conqueror! He comes as Guildford's son should ever come! The battle's o'er, the English arms successful; And Rivers, like an English warrior, hastes To lay his laurels at the feet of beauty. [_Exit._ _Jul._ My joy oppresses me! _Em._ And see, Orlando! How will the welcome news transport his soul, And raise his drooping heart! With caution tell him, Lest the o'erwhelming rapture be too much For his dejected mind. _Enter_ ORLANDO _and_ BERTRAND.