[Exeunt Mrs. Bland and Children.
Bland.
Colonel, I used thee ill this morning.
M'Donald.
No!
Thyself thou used'st most vilely, I remember.
Bland.
Myself sustained the injury, most true;
But the intent of what I said and did
Was ill to thee alone: I'm sorry for it.
Seest thou these blushes? They proceed from warmth
As honest as the heart of man e'er felt;—
But not with shame unmingled, while I force
This tongue, debased, to own, it slander'd thee,
And utter'd—I could curse it—utter'd falsehood.
Howe'er misled by passion, still my mind
Retains that sense of honest rectitude
Which makes the memory of an evil deed
A troublesome companion. I was wrong.
M'Donald.
Why, now this glads me; for thou now art right.
Oh, may thy tongue, henceforward, utter nought
But Truth's sweet precepts, in fair Virtue's cause!
Give me thy hand. [Takes his hand.] Ne'er may it grasp a sword
But in defense of justice.
Bland.