The inside of a cottage, around which flowers and plants of various kinds are seen.

Albert and Maurice.

Albert. He doth believe himself an iron soul,
And therefore puts he on an iron outward
And those same mock habiliments of strength
Hide his own weakness from himself.

Maurice. His weakness! [165]
Come, come, speak out! Your brother is a villain!
Yet all the wealth, power, influence, which is yours
You suffer him to hold!

Albert. Maurice! dear Maurice!
That my return involved Osorio's death
I trust would give me an unmingl'd pang— 170
Yet bearable. But when I see my father
Strewing his scant grey hairs even on the ground
Which soon must be his grave; and my Maria,
Her husband proved a monster, and her infants
[[544]] His infants—poor Maria!—all would perish, 175
All perish—all!—and I (nay bear with me!)
Could not survive the complicated ruin!

Maurice (much affected). Nay, now, if I have distress'd you—you well know,
I ne'er will quit your fortunes! true, 'tis tiresome.
You are a painter—one of many fancies— [180]
You can call up past deeds, and make them live
On the blank canvas, and each little herb,
That grows on mountain bleak, or tangled forest,
You've learnt to name—but I——

Albert. Well, to the Netherlands
We will return, the heroic Prince of Orange 185
Will grant us an asylum, in remembrance
Of our past service.

Maurice. Heard you not some steps?

Albert. What if it were my brother coming onward!
Not very wisely (but his creature teiz'd me)
I sent a most mysterious message to him. 190

Maurice. Would he not know you?