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Act II. PEVERIL OP THE PEAK. 37
you deem me, Bridgenorth will not refuse my
bidding; and force shall make me master of those
papers you refuse.
Jul. I dare the worst. My father’s house has
not stood unhonoured, nor will it fall,—if fall it
must,—unmourned. Forbear then, if you are a
man, to revel in the misery of others; If the light
of our house be quenched, heaven can, in its good
time, rekindle it.
(At this time the beacon is rekindled upon the
distant turrets of Martindale Castle, and il¬
lumes the landscape seen from the •window.)
Merciful Powers ! Look there ! Behold ! Again the
I star of Peveril blazes ! See ! from the warder’s tur-
, ret it sends defiance to our foes.
(Distant shouts, and cries of ^ A Peveril—a
Peveril /”
And hark ! the distant war-cry of our house.
Chris. The war-cry be it then. Julian, you
know not the import of the papers which you bear :
they are fraught with death to Alice Bridgenorth,
and all who otyn her. Resign them, or with my
poniard—
(Loud shouts are again heard, with cries of
“ A Peveril—a Peveril I ” Doors are heard
giving way to the crash of hammers, and
the reflection of flames lightens the apart¬
ment. Alice rushes between Julian and
Christian.)
Alice. Julian, Julian ! preserve my father. The
vassals of your house are murdering him.
(Clashing cf swords heard.
Bbidgenouth, attended by a few Servants, is
driven into the apartment, followed by Lance
Outbam and a large body of Miners. Chris¬
tian ranges himself on the Major's side.
Lance. Give us our young master, you canting